I Will Be The Matriarch In This Life の小説・ストーリー

"And If my Mum is bad and evil, what do you expect from her son? Like Mum, like son right?" Alpha Marcus said and smirked. "You are different Marcus. You have a better heart than Mum." Edward said, almost like a whisper. "Hahaha…you even concur with it. You believe that my mum is the evil one and the witch here. What do you have to say about your own god damn mother? If she wasn't clinging around someone else's husband then all this wouldn't have happened. You shouldn't have been right here with me." Alpha Marcus said, pressing his lips together in a pain like manner.

Most of them should be inside already, and this is the first time in a long time since I last attended a state meeting. For them, I've been out for over four months, but for me, I've been out for over years. Because in previous lives, I never got to this point; back to carrying out my duties as a Wolf Queen. In those lives, I became the mad woman, the villainess of the century. -"Girl, don't tremble in front of them."- 'I know. I won't, Shan.' They would whisper if I showed any sign of getting hurt. Even though Luelle was nipping away at my life, I didn't want them to think it was over just because my husband loved another woman. Placing an indifferent expression, I gripped the doorknob.

"The catch is that Vane and Malphas go back to being mindless monsters. They won't remember you. And eventually, the next Vessel will come along, and the cycle starts again." "And the second option?" The Architect stepped closer, his galaxy-eyes swirling. "You take the Matriarch's seat. You rebuild the Courts. You become the Mother of the New Age. But you can never go back to Earth. And Mia... Mia comes with me to be my apprentice." "I won't let you take her!" Elara snarled, her hand reaching for a power that was no longer there. "I'm not taking her, Elara," the Architect said, pointing to the far end of the hall.

The Matriarch of the auxiliary line the old female currently celebrating her sixty-winter cycle—swept into the sector, flanked by a defensive wall of blade-warriors and bloodline descendants. "Grandmother! A completely rabid stray has breached the inner sanctum!" Sorelle Mistfang wailed, launching her physical form directly to the old female’s flank. The old matriarch, a lifelong border mistress who prided herself on preserving her youthful pheromonal allure, retained pitch-black hair strands despite her sixty winters and projected the arrogant, untouchable aura of old territory wealth. She deployed a withering, lethal evaluation scan across my frame. "Identify your lineage parameters and yo

They had spent their lives insulating themselves from reality, and now, reality was walking through the door in a pair of Italian leather shoes. Catrina walked beside me. She was pale, her side still bandaged, her gait guarded, but there was a fire in her eyes that made the most seasoned directors in the room shrink back in their chairs. She was the mirror image of the woman they had served for twenty years, but she was sharp, hardened, and absolutely, terrifyingly real. "Mr. St. Clair," the Chairman, a withered man named Halloway, stammered, standing up. "This... this is highly irregular. The Matriarch is incapacitated, the legal status of the succession is currently in a holding pattern...

The elder’s eyes were fixed on the still surface, her reflection barely visible. “She’s advancing faster than expected,” Teagan said. The Matriarch’s expression didn’t change. “Her blood remembers what she does not.” “You think the prophecy’s real.” “I think it’s already begun,” the Matriarch replied. “A fractured moon. A child of shadow and light. Her existence has already changed the tide.” Teagan’s gaze flicked toward the horizon, where faint clouds gathered over the distant mountains. “Then we’d better make sure she survives what’s coming.”

It was chaotic and brutal and alive — the only kind of rhythm we’d ever really known. Then, through the smoke, I saw her. The Matriarch. Tall, cloaked, her silver hair glinting like frost under firelight. She wasn’t fighting — she was watching, arms outstretched as if conducting the chaos around her. Our eyes met across the battlefield, and I swear, for a second, everything stilled. I felt her inside my mind, her voice a whisper like cold water. You were never meant to survive this, Nora Ainsley.

I could feel them, using their sharp senses to analyze my scent. A Luna's power should have enveloped me like warm moonlight, but now it was so faint it was barely there. "Look at her," someone whispered. "Her scent is so weak. Is she really a Luna?" "An outsider is an outsider. She'll never truly be one of us." "Poor Alpha, tricked by an imposter." Caden’s mother, the Matriarch, emerged from the crowd. An imposing woman with silver hair pulled into an elegant bun, her eyes burned with an ancient authority.

“No, Cazz. The pack. Everyone.” I stopped walking a few feet short of the dais, frowning. “Why?” “Because I am the Matriarch of the royal line and I have told them that I am going to commend their Queen to them.” Adrenaline punched me in the stomach. “The fuck you are—” “You are done speaking to me that way—” “I will speak to you however I please—no matter your power, I am still your King!” “In name, certainly.” “In everything,” I growled.

“The Matriarch will decide.” I lowered my hand slowly from my mouth. “The what?” “The Matriarch.” She said it like everyone on earth should know what that meant. I did not. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “What exactly is a matriarch?” The maid looked at me with something dangerously close to pity. “Madame Donna Marazona.” The name landed with ominous weight. “She will decide your fate.” I nearly swallowed my own tongue. “My… fate?” “Yes, Madame.” I laughed nervously.