Under The Oak Tree Novels & Stories

POV: DARIUS The first light of morning creeps slowly through the trees while the forest still smells like smoke and broken magic. I stand at the edge of the clearing and stare at the well dug ground in front of me.. No one speaks. The entire pack stands quietly beneath the branches of the Moon Tree. It is the oldest tree in our territory. Huge. Ancient. Its trunk is so wide it would take five wolves just to circle it and the branches stretch out over the clearing like giant arms. Pale white bark glows faintly under the early morning light and the leaves whisper softly every time the wind moves through them.

I knew he was supposed to be here. Thinking he was yet to come, I sat under the oak tree and waited for him. I kind of see why he liked this place, the cool breeze brushing against my skin was so calming, and the leaves on the oak tree rustled with the wind. I closed my eyes, breathing deeply, enjoying the calm environment. I think I was too engrossed in how good I was feeling that I did not know when I fell asleep. I don’t know how long I had slept, but when I woke up, I was moving in the air, my eyes immediately flew open, scared I was being kidnapped.

Gadriel said. Cameron, doing her best, she tossed him the ball so far away that the little Gadriel had to run further to catch it up. The house they were renting was surrounding by thin bars that allowed people from outside to see what was happening at the garden. Without noticing it, a black car pulled over. The man who got out smiled as soon as he saw Cameron and a little boy running over there. She seemed so happy. Maybe, if God hadn’t been so unfair to her, the one who will be running there would have been their son.

Hilda The sun is warm against my skin, the scent of fresh grass and wildflowers thick in the air as we sit beneath the sprawling oak tree next to the creek. A checkered blanket is spread beneath us, weighed down with a picnic basket, filled with an assortment of sandwiches, and a sticky-fingered toddler who’s currently smearing honey across her chubby cheeks.

The time I was wasting. Evans was still out there. I straightened and stepped over the unconscious outlaws, looking around. I noticed it then. A tree. In the center of the clearing, there was a single, enormous oak. The wood underneath was scarred with something that made my stomach turn, and its bark was split. Blood. Not merely splashed. Not merely smeared. **Sculpted.** Three sharp, deep phrases that seemed to have been sunk like inhuman claws into the wood.

Colton looks like he wants to walk into a tree. I shake my head, unable to stop the small smile tugging at my lips. “You two are terrible at lying.” Oakley beams. “Thank you.” “That wasn’t a compliment,” I say. “It felt like one,” he replies. Colton exhales slowly. “Let’s just… move on. The orchard is this way.” Oakley nods quickly. “Yes. Orchard. Trees. Fruit. No mysterious healer prophecies there.” Colton mutters, “Hopefully.”

she asked for the third time, curiosity evident on her face. “Be patient, my dear,” I replied with a smile. “Just a few more minutes.” “You know I'm not good at being patient.” “Oh, I'm well aware,” I laughed. “Remember when you were waiting for the results of the Elder Council's test? You paced for three hours.” “That's different!” she protested. “That was about our future as—” She stopped as we rounded the last bend and the view spread out before us. A small meadow surrounded by tall trees, with a small river flowing on one side. In the middle of the meadow stood a huge, ancient oak tree—its branches spread wide, creating a perfect natural canopy.

He draped it over his shoulder. Kade always did things with purpose, so it was nice just to meander, no destination or agenda in mind, talking to Eliza as they wallowed in the lazy afternoon. It pleased him Skylar hadn’t cultivated the stereotypical suburban lawn, but allowed the landscape remain natural. Rugged. A backdrop of long, gold and brown grasses, stubby groundcover the color of cinnamon, sagebrush, and the occasional yellow daisy popped up, all blended seamlessly past the barbed wire fence and across the pasture. An oak tree with gnarled branches grew in the middle of the backyard. Usually only scrub oak survived and they never reached that size. He stopped under the canopy of shad

Then Amber felt it too. “What is that?” “I think the tree is trying to communicate with us.” “What?” Amber looked shocked. “Let’s just go see.” Isabella continued up to the top and stood under the tall oak. She looked at the leaves and half rotten acorns around its base. “It’s a black oak.” She whispered to Amber. “How can you tell?” “You have to look at the leaves and the acorns. Those are black oak leaves and acorns.” “Okay.” Amber looked up at the tree.

Amelia's POV As I made my way through the forest, the familiar sight of the towering oak tree greeted me like an old friend. Its gnarled branches reached out to me, casting dappled shadows upon the forest floor as if beckoning me closer. With each step, the soft crunch of leaves beneath my feet echoed through the tranquil air, a comforting melody that soothed my restless soul. The canopy above filtered the sunlight into a dappled mosaic of light and shadow, casting a sense of enchantment over the secluded grove where the ancient oak stood sentinel.