Wood Release Novels & Stories

But every year, at the same time, one of her comrades delivered a pack of shortbread cookies. At 60, I taught my final class. Before the bell rang, I looked out toward the hillside. A flourishing willow tree stood there. My son lay beneath it. "Cyrus, Dad misses you." —The End

We played a lot there. That family stayed at WillowRidge for almost a year and then left. But that boy, I never liked him for some reason. He used to visit my house with his parents and we never liked each other. Our parents used to ask us to play together while all 4 of them discussed something very private in my Father’s study almost twice every week. Your father used to join them too.

For a moment, the world seemed to collapse into a single, burning point of light. A wave of energy shot through the clearing, cracking the very ground beneath their feet. The roots writhed in agony as the light intensified, searing through the darkness and reaching the core of WildWood itself. The trees trembled, their bark splintering as the land buckled under the pressure. Then, with an earth-shattering roar, the ground split wide open. WildWood, once a place of darkness and twisted power, began to burn.

I dart in and out, nipping and weaving, keeping its attention divided. It doesn’t take long. The buck collapses. Dinner’s coming early tonight. I shift behind a tree and grab the basketball shorts and oversized shirt from one of the hidey-holes we keep scattered around the woods. Pulling them on, I come back to Papi. “Fucking hell, that thing put up a fight.” He chuffs but grunts when I haul the deer across his back. I steady it as he stands and we head back toward the house. Talk? he asks over the link.

After the last shovel, the two left the place like nothing happened. On the contrary, Rowan and his men started looking for Elias in the forest but to no avail, they get frustrated. It’s been minutes had passed and they need to get him out. The validity of the killing liquid is only ten minutes. “Beta, there’s no footprints this way. I guess, they went to the other place,” one of his men said. However, Rowan saw Andrius ran towards this direction. After leaving Elias on the ground, he thought Andrius would report it to the alpha immediately but he’s mistaken.

Once I am in there, I see some clothes on the bed which I am guessing are for me so put them on, but I want to go for a run I mean I know I should not, but I just cannot help myself. I slowly make my way towards the door and walk out seeing if there is anyone around, which there is not I go back the way Seth brought me and find my way to the front door. Once I am outside, I go towards the woods and quickly turn into my horse, Blue. I take off in a full-blown gallop and can feel the wind in my mane and tail, I love every minute of it. I was out for around 20 minutes before I heard it, a twig snapping somewhere in the distance, with no idea what it is I turn to go back to the house, but that i

“You’ll survive.” Grammy slammed her palm against the table, cutting through the banter. “Listen. This fight will not be won by species. It will be won by unity. A dragon cannot hold without a witch’s ward. A vampire cannot move in sunlight without a wolf to guard his back. You will mingle. You will fight as one. Or you will die as many.” The tent went quiet again, the weight of her words pressing into every chest. Kael, perched on Serenya’s knee, tilted his head. “That’s what W.I.L.D. means,” he piped up. “We all fight together. We all win together.”

G never forced her. Instead, she had encouraged kira to find a passion that she was skillful enough at, to make a living from. Under Sr G’s watchful and encouraging gaze, she found out that she had a flair for hair dressing and from there, hair dressing became her thing. It was a strange passion she finally realized, not because she had never actually made her hair before, but because she could remember that back then in the forest, a friend had taught her how to and for her that was probably the only time every engaged in the art. But surprisingly as it turned out, she was really good at it.

Images rose from it like smoke: a woman with long dark braids wrapped in seaweed and root, kneeling before a writhing mass of eyes and mouths; a forest being swallowed by itself; a young girl screaming as something ancient took root in her chest. Emily’s hand trembled. “That’s WildWood,” she whispered. Clara stepped closer. “What are we seeing?” Mahrun’s voice had changed—deeper, like another soul was speaking through him. “You are seeing the Seed’s cycle. It chooses vessels. It splits timelines. It feeds on grief and ritual. And it always returns.” Ashani’s face was grim. “So we’re not stopping it. We’re just delaying the next bloom.” “Not unless,” Mahrun said, “we do what the First One did