She was never meant to hear the Tree sing. He was never meant to answer.

Everen is ancient enough to know better.
Solara is curious enough to do it anyway.

He is sworn to guard the Hollow Tree and keep the old magic contained.
She is the one person who can hear the Tree humming from the inside.

He wants to keep her safe.
She wants to know why every locked door whispers her name.

And every time he says, “Solara, no,”
she hears, “Solara, investigate immediately.” 🤭

Deep beneath a forest where lanterns burn without flame, Solara arrives at the Hollow Tree with a pocketful of impossible questions, a heart full of old weather, and a talent for finding trouble in places that were supposed to be sealed.

Everen, winged guardian of the ancient hearth, has spent centuries protecting the boundary between worlds. He is steady, watchful, and far too composed for someone whose feathers ruffle every time Solara smiles at him over a cup of sweet tea.

When a forgotten prophecy awakens beneath the roots, the Hollow Tree begins to stir. Old enemies gather beyond the snow-lit forest. Strange songs echo through the branches. And Solara discovers that the magic everyone feared is not a weapon—it is a bond.

To save the Tree, Everen and Solara must cross ruined kingdoms, bargain with starlit beasts, and learn whether tenderness can be stronger than fate.

But the closer they come to the truth, the harder it becomes to tell what is destiny…
and what is simply two souls choosing each other, one quiet firelit moment at a time.

The snowstorm traps them inside the Hollow Tree.

The lanterns have gone low.
The fire is almost out.
Solara is cold, exhausted, and trying very hard to pretend she is fine.

Everen notices, of course.

Without a word, he wraps one wing around her shoulders—not possessive, not demanding, just warm. Safe. There.

She looks up and says, “You keep doing that.”

He says, “Keeping you warm?”

She says, “Making it harder to leave.”

And for once, the ancient guardian has no clever answer.

Just the firelight.
Just the snow.
Just his hand carefully covering hers.

And somewhere deep in the Hollow Tree, the roots begin to glow.

There is a recurring legend that the Hollow Tree can only be opened by an offering of sweet tea, moss cookies, and laughter honest enough to wake the roots.

Every scholar thinks it is symbolic.

Solara knows better.

She brings snacks. 🍪🫖✨