Author Margaret Way Novels & Stories

GABRIELLA'S POV Margaret couldn't believe what she was witnessing. The once harmonious atmosphere had been shattered by a heated argument between Dorcas and Argatha. Rising from her seat, Margret felt a surge of anger fueled by her concern for the well-being of everyone involved. She needed to intervene and put an end to the fight that was disrupting the entire event. "Enough, Dorcas! Enough of all these words," Margret exclaimed, her voice laced with frustration. "This isn't like you. What's the matter? What's your problem exactly?"

I really don't know how to deal with them. My mom likes Chloe a lot. She always told me that how come I can't be just like her. And I answered her simply because I am Marga, in short for Margaret, my name is too long to Its right? So yeah that's simple reason. But she said that I should be like her. She even told me that she used to be just like her when she was young. And I asked myself quietly. Am I really my mom's daughter? Because let's face it. It's really true that she's like my cousin.

Alive. Selene’s POV Margaret’s notebook lies open before me, its pages worn with age and ink. I flip through them rapidly, my fingers shaking with urgency. My breakfast sits beside me, untouched. The food grows cold, forgotten. I cannot tear my eyes away from the text. Margaret was a genius. Her work with aromatic cures—Potions that healed both curses and natural diseases—is nothing short of revolutionary. She was ahead of her time. A pioneer. And yet, none of it helps.

Strong houses assailed my ears from downstairs informing me that something was definitely wrong somewhere. “He is here. He is here at Alpha’s house. Margaret is dead!" she slid down the door looking very grave and afraid. Margaret is dead. The words replayed in my head. Who is Margaret! I wasn't well acquainted with the omega's save for Jewel so I couldn't tell who she was talking about. “Margaret is the head of the omegas,” she said via quiveing lips. “The one I met the other day?” “No, that was the second in command. Margaret is the overall. She hardly comes to the kitchen.. She is in charge of running the house in terms of cooking and cleaning. She hardly comes out of her office. They fou

Somehow, it was easy to be without shame with him. Then she turned towards him and whispered "Let's go all the way"Lady Margaret whispers her eyes heavy with lust and pleasure

she said firmly. Big Margaret's eyes darkened. “Oh I know you very well, my dear. Stubborn. Foolishly brave. Too trusting.” she looked at Noah with amusement and turned back to Leah. “And far too sentimental for your own good.” Noah got provoked by those words. He clenched his fists at his sides, but Leah ignored the bait. “I don't have the passcode,” she said flatly. Big Margaret let out a laugh, light and airy, as though they were discussing the weather. Then, in a sudden, terrifying shift, she stood up from the chair, lifted the gun and pointed it directly at Leah's face.

“Are you sure about this?” I turned around from the mirror, the wedding gown I was inspecting rustling around my ankles. Celeste was sitting on my bed, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. “Celeste…” “I mean…come on, Margaux. We knew that man was a monster.” She continued, “After everything we’d learned about him, the reports from the capital…” “I knew what he was.” I smoothed down the silk, twisting my back to see how it looked from another angle. “That’s why I was doing this, isn’t it?”

Beatrice was copying scrolls in the records room when Margaret walked in with her chin raised and her hands clasped in front of her and the absolute certainty that every person inside would give her their full attention. Beatrice looked up from her work. She didn't stand. "You must be Beatrice," Margaret said warmly. "I'm Margaret. Neah's mother. I don't believe we've been properly introduced." "We haven't," Beatrice said. "Though you did try to have me thrown in the dungeon last week."

"I've spent years married to a man I don't love, raising children I barely know. And I don't know how to leave. I don't know what they will think of me." Margaret was quiet for a long moment. "Do you remember what you told me when my husband left me?" she asked finally. Katherine frowned. "What?" "Twenty years ago. When Edward walked out, and I was so broken I couldn't get out of bed. I called you, crying, and you told me something I've never forgotten." Margaret smiled softly. "You said, 'The only way out is through. You have to walk through the fire, Margaret. You have to let it burn, because on the other side, you're going to be free.'"