Novel & Cerita Matriarch Synonym

She stepped into the light of the searchlights, the emeralds in her tiara flashing. "Mr. D’Amici," Elara said, her voice projecting to the back of the crowd. "I am Elara Thorne, the Matriarch of this House, recognized by the Council of Five Families as of three hours ago." Cesare inclined his head slightly. "A beautiful bride. But a mother’s feelings do not override a Patriarch’s contract."

And then, Elder Veda walked in. She was a small woman, shrunken with age, wrapped in layers of heavy wool shawls that smelled of sage and unmistakenly like wet dog. She carried a walking stick made of gnarled weirwood, topped with a clouded crystal. Despite her size, she sucked the air out of the room. She was the Matriarch of the High Council, the Keeper of the Old Ways, and the only person Fennigan had ever seen his father nervous around other than his mother. Everyone in the room stood immediately. It wasn't a choice; it was instinct. Even Jax, usually irreverent, straightened his spine.

I wish that my mate could be someone who loves me and worships the ground that I walk on, I want a relationship with my mate to be strong, he should love me and listen to me, not be the wife to someone, who just married me because I am his mate and thereafter marry as many wives as he could and probably add a lot of mistresses, I don't want a relationship like that of my father and mother. My dad is the beta to the old alpha, I am his first daughter, and my name is Fiona. By the end of today, he will no longer be the beta because the old alpha will crown his son, the new alpha when he claims his mate. The pack had a law, that the old alpha crown his successor when he found his mate, so no ma

Though age was tough when it came to other people, she did listen to her mother. In a peaceful corner of the supernatural world, Alessia and Lucas, the matriarch and patriarch of the pack, enjoyed their twilight years. They watched with pride as their descendants continued to uphold the values they had fought for. The bond between their packs remained unbreakable, a testament to the enduring power of unity.

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

Louis sat across from him, his glass half empty, his guard half down. "You promised to tell me about Lorenzo," he said. Matt leaned back in his chair. "Does he talk about his past? His childhood? His mother?" Louis's hand tightened around his glass. "A little. Not much." "I figured." Matt swirled his wine. "Lorenzo doesn't like to show weakness. He never has. Even when we were younger, even when his grandmother and the Matriarchy…" He stopped and shook his head. "Never mind." "What? Who or what are these Matriarchy?" Louis asked.

Years of intermingling with the matriarch's family who share her special blood resulted to the new hierarchy, the world order of evolvers. Those are people who have specialties, some strong like they could lift mountains and exceptional memory and intelligence like the professor. Others weak like their cock can form a kilometer arc of gushing when they urinate. The piss attack that's very popular on the websites. But no one could match the matriarch who has super strength and longevity; eternal life, the fountain of youth! One can imagine the ruckus she brings whenever she appears as she holds the record of the world's oldest grandmother alive. All wanted to suck her blood up and study her.

“You can confirm it. The official ceremony will be held soon and broadcast throughout the country. Victoria Greco will be named my official mate, and the title of Matriarch will also be passed to her.” Even I widened my eyes a little, trying to hide my surprise. His fingers sank into my hip, and I lifted my head to look at him standing beside me. “But what about your mother? The Matriarch has always been the mother of the next heir...” Questions slipped out from one side of the room and then another. “You said it yourself. My mother no longer holds that place,” he said bluntly, and I could almost see smoke coming out of those reporters’ heads.

Instead, she gathered her golden skirts and sat gracefully on the edge of the mattress, placing herself at Mwajuma’s eye level. "I am High Matriarch Malkia," she said, her voice a soothing balm. "I am the mother of this city. And you, my fierce, beautiful warrior, are the miracle my guards have not stopped whispering about for three days." Mwajuma shifted uncomfortably. She was used to being called a witch. She was used to being called a monster. She was not used to being looked at with such gentle, unadulterated admiration. "I am just Mwajuma," she said, her voice gruff, defensive.

Taller than even when she tried to act like a mother. “I was never just a maid, Valencia,” she said. “And I wasn't the only woman the Blackwoods and the Rossis tried to erase. My real name isn't Maria, you may be shocked because that is what you’ve known since childhood but honey, this war runs deep. I am the Founding Matriarch of The Silver Veil.” “The Silver Veil?” I echoed.