Chapter 13: The Uprooting of Chains

Roots of Desire

Chapter 13: The Uprooting of Chains

Iveyna’s world trembled.

Not just the ground beneath her; the very air seemed to pulse with an ancient, primal force. She gasped as the cell jolted, rising from the shattered remains of the manor floor, and her vision blurred from the sudden movement. The thick, living vines that wrapped around the bars creaked and groaned, coiling tighter as if the metal itself were an offense to the earth.

The deep, resonant growl she heard wasn’t entirely human. It rolled through the air like thunder through a forest canopy, raw and unforgiving. She tried to lift her head, her body still sluggish from exhaustion, but what she saw stole the breath from her lungs.

Woodward.

But not as she’d known him before.

The figure looming above her was no longer the quiet, watchful man of the woods. He was more. Towering and massive, his form had become a living monolith of bark and sinew, an ancient protector wrenched from the heart of the forest. Jagged branches extended from his shoulders, his limbs thick as tree trunks, and the glow of emerald runes pulsed along his bark-covered skin. His eyes; bright and fierce; burned like verdant fire, locking onto her with a focus that stripped her bare.

And his vines; his touch; were everywhere.

A thick, sinuous vine slipped through the bars of her cell, sliding against her thigh as it wrapped around her waist. The contact was a contrast of roughness and warmth, the living texture of the vine almost too much against the sensitive skin bared by her torn dress. She shivered as it coiled tighter, pulling her gently against the cold iron while more vines crept along her legs, curling around her ankles.

Another vine brushed along her neck; slow, deliberate; as if mapping every curve of her throat. The touch was firm but oddly reverent, sending a wave of heat curling low in her belly. Her heart pounded as more vines slid along her wrists, binding her gently before the pressure shifted; tightening just enough to snap the rusted shackles apart.

The chains that had bound her… broke.

A sharp, metallic crack filled the air as the cuffs around her wrists fell away. Her breath hitched when the vines at her ankles flexed, shattering the restraints in a cascade of dust. The weight she’d carried for days; gone.

Her throat tightened, and something fierce burned behind her eyes. Freedom. He’d given her freedom. But that wasn’t the only thing unraveling inside her.

As his vines lingered; twining over her hips, her thighs, brushing places no one had dared touch; a flush burned beneath her skin. She shouldn’t be reacting like this. Not here, not now. But the heat rising between her legs betrayed her, spreading as his magic coiled around her body.

A soft, helpless sound slipped from her lips. His grip tightened in response, as if he felt her. Knew her thoughts.

The cell groaned beneath his vines, the iron buckling under his power. With one swift, brutal twist, the entire structure shattered into fine dust. The force of it sent tremors rippling through the earth, and her body trembled in kind, caught between the aftershocks of destruction and the vines that refused to let her go.

The protective tendrils cradled her, holding her against the living force of him. It should have felt like captivity. It didn’t. It felt like protection.

She swallowed hard, trying to steady the erratic pulse thundering through her veins. “Woodward…” Her voice was hoarse; raw from her time in the cell; but she had to say something. Had to know.

His massive frame shifted, bending closer to her. The heat of his magic pulsed through the air, thick with the scent of earth and sap. When he spoke, his voice was deeper; darker; than she’d ever heard it. “You are no one’s prisoner,” he rumbled. “Not while I draw breath.”

The weight of his promise curled low in her stomach, a budding need for him, and for the first time in days, the helplessness she’d fought against cracked; giving way to something far more dangerous.

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Desire.

His vines flexed around her one last time before they began to retreat, sliding away in slow, deliberate strokes that left her trembling. One vine remained around her waist in a sign of clear possessiveness. She wanted to blame the cold night air for the way her body ached at the loss of his touch. But she knew better. Woodward had broken more than just her chains. And deep down, she wasn’t sure she wanted to be free of him.

The manor groaned; a dying beast beneath Woodward’s power.

Iveyna clung to the thick vine wrapped around her waist as it shifted beneath her, holding her with an unyielding gentleness that contradicted the raw destruction surrounding them. Woodward’s Treant form loomed above, bark and sinew twisting with radiant, emerald energy. His magic thrummed through the air; ancient and wild; making her skin prickle as if the forest itself had come alive.

She barely had time to catch her breath before the vines holding her began to move. Slowly, carefully, he lowered her toward the broken earth below. The ground trembled as more vines stretched outward, spiraling toward the cells where the other women huddled; frightened, watching him with wide, disbelieving eyes.

A sharp creak echoed through the ruins as his vines wound tighter around the iron bars. The first cell groaned in protest, but it didn’t stand a chance against his strength. With a single twist of his massive hand, the doors shattered from his vines, falling open in jagged pieces.

“Come out,” his voice rumbled; low and commanding, vibrating through the air like the deep roots of a tree. “You’re safe now.”

“It’s all right,” Iveyna said softly, her voice thick with the weight of everything that had happened. “He won’t hurt you. He’s freeing us.”

The girl hesitated for only a breath longer before she stumbled forward, tripping over the jagged edge of the broken door. Before she could fall, a smaller vine curled around her wrist, steadying her with surprising care. Her breath hitched as she stared up at the towering form above.

“Th-Thank you,” she whispered.

Woodward didn’t answer; he was already turning his focus to the next cell. His movements were swift but precise, his vines crackling through the air with each shuddering twist of the iron. One by one, the doors groaned open, the chains fell away, and the captives; some too weak to walk; were cradled by vines that carried them gently to the ground.

Iveyna’s heart pounded as she moved among them, offering quiet reassurances and helping steady the ones too stunned to move on their own. She had no idea how long they had been down here; weeks, maybe months. The evidence of their suffering was etched into every bruised limb and hollow gaze. But they were free now. And it was because of him.

A distant shout cut through the air.

Iveyna’s head snapped up, her breath catching in her throat. Beyond the wreckage of the manor, the village stirred; lights flickering to life in the dark as the distant sound of voices grew louder.

They had heard.

Woodward shifted, vines curling protectively around the last girl as he set her down. His form radiated raw, primal power, but something else burned in his eyes; a deep, protective instinct as he gazed at the broken women now standing beneath the ruins he had wrought.

Another shout pierced the night; closer now. “What in the gods’ name; ?”

The first of the townsfolk appeared at the edge of the rubble, lanterns bobbing as more figures emerged from the village. Their faces were pale, twisted in fear as they took in the splintered remains of the manor, the writhing vines still pulsing with life; and the massive, bark-skinned figure at its center.

“Monster!” someone cried, their voice thick with panic.

A ripple of fear swept through the crowd. Iveyna’s stomach clenched as several men surged forward, pitchforks and crude weapons in hand. They didn’t understand; couldn’t see past the towering, ancient form before them.

“Wait!” Iveyna shouted, raising her hands. “He’s not; ”Woodward moved before she could finish. The air around him shifted; intensifying as his magic surged. Light erupted from the lines etched into his bark, glowing brighter until a radiant, golden-green halo surrounded his form. It spilled across the broken ground, illuminating the huddled women in soft, shimmering warmth.

The villagers froze. Their weapons wavered as the light revealed the truth. Not a monster. Not a threat. Their missing daughters. “Gods above…” a woman gasped, her voice trembling. “Alina?”

A thin, dark-haired girl staggered forward, tears streaking her dirt-smeared face. “Mama…” Her voice cracked, raw with disbelief.

The woman dropped her lantern with a clatter and ran; falling to her knees as she gathered the girl into her arms, sobbing. The other women began to move, too, staggering toward the gathering crowd as familiar faces called their names. The fear in the air shifted; turning into a rush of tears, broken cries, and disbelieving relief.

A man; broad-shouldered and fierce-eyed; stepped forward, his gaze locking onto Woodward’s massive form. “You; ” His voice shook with emotion. “You saved them?”

Woodward’s glowing eyes burned through the darkness as he slowly inclined his head. “They are free,” he said, his voice deep and steady.

A stunned silence fell over the crowd.

Iveyna took a step closer to him, her heart pounding as she looked up at his Treant form. Even now, bathed in light and power, there was a gentleness in the way his vines lingered; watching over the freed women as if they were something precious.

“Thank you,” the broad-shouldered man said hoarsely, sinking to one knee; a gesture of reverence Iveyna had never thought to see.

One by one, the others followed. The same people who had called him a monster now knelt before him. And at the center of it all, Woodward stood; silent, powerful, and unyielding. Iveyna’s breath caught in her throat as her gaze met his.

And for the first time since she had fallen into his world, she realized the truth: He wasn’t just a protector of the forest. He was something far greater; and far more dangerous. And she couldn’t look away.