Wayward Pines Novels & Stories

"We're almost there." Through the trees, I caught glimpses of a sprawling structure—weathered gray stone and dark timber, designed to blend with the forest rather than stand apart from it. Whispering Pines Estate. The name had seemed innocuous in reports, but now it loomed in my mind like a designation from a horror story.

She nodded and put the cigarette back. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "I'm just lucky I guess?" "Yeah, lucky you are not crazy, yet. Anyway, the club is Dawson, turn on Whispering Pines, you can’t miss it. You know the big dumpy place down from the church? It kind of looks like a gothic hangover if a goth and a heavy metal nut case had a baby. " "I know the place, well I have seen it before and I am not sure that I am not crazy, Oshey."

“One south, one deeper into the pines.” The warriors shifted, waiting for orders. Cain’s gaze flicked to me. “Raven.” I blinked. “What?” “Which way?” The air thickened. Every eye turned on me. Testing. Doubting. I swallowed hard, leaned closer to the ground. One trail was messy, chaotic, full of broken branches and blood drops. The other, cleaner. Purposeful. Almost too neat. A trap. “They want us south,” I said slowly, pointing at the messy trail. “That’s the bait. The real path’s through the pines.”

Ryan said, gripping the box with one hand and the door frame with the other as the car bucked hard enough to rattle his teeth. "It's not supposed to save us. It's supposed to buy thirty seconds." Samuel killed the headlights, dropping them into near-total dark, moonlight the only thing filtering through the canopy. "Which is exactly how long I need to find somewhere to stop without them seeing where we went." Driving blind through unfamiliar woods should have terrified him more than it did, but somewhere in the last day his sense of fear had reset entirely, and all that was left now was a strange, narrow focus as Samuel steered the dying car deeper into the trees until the engine finally qui

He won't give up. what the? What is not covered by the HFWA? He couldn't remember. No one remembered him. He was sitting on the bank watching the sunset. Oddly shaped trees swayed in the gentle breeze. The air was warm and smelled strange. The flowers that bloomed more than any other flower in the desolate wasteland of Penrith swayed beneath the wind's searching fingers.

Nothing could. I jerked upright, the memory too much to bear. The papers on my desk flew to the floor as I stood, frustration and regret mingling into a toxic brew inside me. I paced to the window, leaning my forehead against the cool glass, and stared out at the spring landscape. The trees were shedding their leaves, a constant reminder of the cyclical nature of life. How could I hope for renewal when I was the one causing destruction? My thoughts were interrupted by a movement outside. Aderyn was walking towards the forest, her silhouette barely visible in the twilight. My wolf stirred within me, urging me to follow her, to ensure she was safe.

The SUV idles at the last stoplight before Asheville falls away behind them, engine humming low under Wren's palms. Beyond the guardrail, the pines climb the ridge in a dark, unbroken wall, thick enough to swallow whatever light tries to get through. The French Broad runs brown and low through the gorge to her left, and even with the windows sealed, the cold coming off that water finds the back of her neck. The light turns green. She doesn't move.

And I just feel weird, a heavy mix of discomfort and confusion, watching her pretend. We pull off the main road onto a long, winding gravel drive. Towering pines line the path, their branches heavy with snow, creating a hushed, almost magical tunnel. The air grows colder, crisper, carrying the scent of pine and frozen earth. After several minutes, the trees thin out, revealing a breathtaking sight.

Harley~ Cedar planks, rough as bark, cut a jagged silhouette against a mountain bruised with the coming twilight's purple. My gaze darts constantly between windows, fighting to catch the panoramic view from every angle. It's both eerie and fascinating the way the mist coils around the thick trunks of the pines surrounding the cabin. When Nick pulls the passenger door open, the air hits my nose. Wonderful, sharp, yet thin, a breeze flows by, carrying with it just a hint of damp earth and crushed needles. Smog-free and a welcome breath, I try to inhale it all at once.

Mara and Fen join, their hands warm on my back and shoulder. For a moment, something like peace fills the clearing. The forest breathes. The wound in the earth quivers, waiting for us to begin. The past burns. The future begins. And Silverpine—pack, witch, and mother—may yet survive.