Ill Be The Matriarch In This Life Novel Forum Novels & Stories

"Matt! No! Please, Matt, don't! This isn't you... this isn't who you are!" Her voice, raw with terror, cracked on the last words, which echoed loudly through the forest. She remembered the Matt she knew: the man who held her hand gently, who laughed softly at her jokes, whose eyes held nothing but warmth and affection. This creature before her, eyes blazing with a hellish light, fangs bared in a snarl, was a grotesque parody of that man. The transformation was complete, a horrifying metamorphosis from the man she loved to a savage beast. Ella slowly walks toward Matt. Everyone around is alert. Everyone is in position. One wrong step from her and one wrong move from Matt, all their hard work

It was a woman with ivory skin and hair like spun glass—the Original Matriarch. The "Forbidden Love" hadn't ended the war. it had merely invited the real owners of the world to the table. Watch out for the next Chapter

I sneer thinking about my father. Mariah is a hybrid more specifically part wolf and witch, she was a part of one of the biggest witch covens in the US and a part of Brad's pack. She is one of the six people that know about how much of a piece of shit Alesso Ezio Devirolli is. My father.

Kesi, the healer, had approached her, bowing deeply before handing her a scroll sealed with pale green wax. "The Matriarch requests your presence in the Sun-Chamber, Earth-Breaker," Kesi had whispered, her amber eyes wide with reverence. "She wishes to speak with you alone." Now, Mwajuma stood before the colossal, sweeping doors of the Matriarch’s inner sanctum at the very apex of the Mother-Tree. The doors were carved from living wood, depicting a beautiful, intricate mural of women lifting the sun into the sky while chaining beasts in the roots below.

Matilda Sutton, my wife, and I are on our tenth wedding anniversary trip when the plane suddenly crashes. I hand her the last remaining parachute, only for her to scoff and ask, "What are you up to this time, Tyler?" I feel a sudden ache in my chest, knowing that Matilda has never loved me in our ten years of marriage. She has also seen me play the hero enough times that it doesn't even register anymore. But this time, it's a genuine matter of life and death. I push her out of the door right as flames engulf the cabin. "If there's a next life, I'll leave you alone, Matilda." Consciousness returns. I find that I've returned to the exact moment I'm about to propose to Matilda. I try to st

They walked together across the hall, weaving between clusters of guests until they reached the grand buffet table The matriarch clasped her hands neatly behind her back and turned to face her. “Tell me, my dear,” she began, “do you know who I am?” Cassandra blinked. What kind of question was that? She shifted uneasily, her throat suddenly dry. “I… I’m not sure,” she admitted softly. The woman inclined her head with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “You may call me Madam Matilda. I am the matriarch of the female members of Nordau Bloc.”

she said. I looked at her. She was looking at the garden window with the afternoon light on her face and the ancient-quality mark warm and steady in the spring air. “The context distribution,” I said. “The founding matriarch’s plan. Was it always going to end here?” “It was always going to end somewhere,” Helen said. “She hoped it would end in a room where the people knew what they were doing.” She paused. “This is a room where people know what they are doing.” She looked at me. “That’s not a given. That’s earned.”

M. The pieces were finally locking together, but they didn't form a picture I wanted to see. My mother wasn't a victim who had escaped a fire. She was the one running the ledger. She was the Matriarch. And Julian wasn't a savior; he was just a warehouse manager keeping an eye on the inventory.

And now that Mom was gone, it was laughable that she was eagerly handing them over. "No need," I said flatly. Suddenly, Brad screamed. Olivia instinctively rushed to his side, looking all worried and concerned. "What's wrong?" He pointed, wide-eyed, at my mother's portrait and urn and asked in a trembling voice, "Why is there an urn here? Could your mom be—" "No way!" Olivia snapped as an ominous feeling crept up in her chest. People would often believe whatever let them sleep at night. If she had ever stopped to think about why Mom often struggled to breathe around her and why heart medication was scattered all over our house, she would've known Mom had a failing heart.

She turned to me, "Why the hell am I living a Soap Opera Life?" I was taken back, "What?" "I was happily mated, then he goes off and marries his true love and then I do the same, then it turns out they're siblings, and I'm pregnant with twins but only one of them is my husbands'.What the hell?" She exclaims, tears forming around her eyes. It pained me when she said she was happily mated but from what she told me about the years they were together it’s a true statement. So I swallowed the growl that wanted to escape me when she said it.