Mother Gothel Old Lady Novels & Stories

"She isn't his mother. She’s a farmer. She’s a monster who uses children as batteries." High Queen Elena laughed, and the sound was like silver bells ringing in a tomb. She stepped down from the central dais, her golden eyes glowing with a terrifying, youthful brilliance. She looked younger than me. She looked like she had never known a day of "Lagos-grit" in her life.

An old woman, might be the matriarch of the Armdillo’s family. “Must be this stupid Hagai. All he cares to do is to leech on my wealth, benevolence, and my daughter leverage and name.” She hissed through coarse voice. “Where’s him?” “Go on and call him to this place. He needs to be flogged heavily for daring to hit on Jayden.” The matriarch stomped her foot on the floor, and clasped her hands backward. “Yes my lady.” A voice sounds from behind her. A voice I hadn’t notice before which belonged to a lady.

I uttered nervously and scratched my eyebrow. Is this her grandmother? She looks scary, indeed! "I'm looking for Magda," I said. "I brought some food for her," I added and smiled awkwardly. I scratched the back of my head. I was devastated when her eyes narrowed as if she were reading me. "Who's Magda?" she asked confusedly. "There's no Magda here. Go away!" the old lady scolded me and turned her back. I panicked. I hold the gate quickly to avoid closing it. She stopped because of what I did.

he suggested. I replied coldly, "It's none of my business that your dad dotes on her. I'm not obligated to indulge her!" Brady's face darkened. "But you married me, so she's your mother too." I replied sarcastically, "Ha! I don't think I'm worthy of that!" Brady looked at me in disbelief. "Eloise, what's wrong with you? You've never acted like this before." Of course. The kind, understanding Eloise Loyle you once knew was killed by your own mother!

Esther tested the waters and said, "Mom, can we bring him out for dinner later?" My stomach began rumbling when I heard that. I carefully said, "Mom, I'm hungry." However, Mom just shoved me back into the tank with a cold expression on her face and said, "Your sisters might have obeyed me for now, but I know that they're only doing so reluctantly. "You know that you're just a dog, right? So, you'd better be a good dog and fulfill your purpose so that Esther and Emily will never dare to disobey me ever again."

Cole could remember her whispering them to her, holding her tight, on the nights when—she realized with hindsight—she was waiting fearfully for her father to come home. Cole nodded helplessly. It was either that or burst into tears. Vomit her life story onto Mrs. Hart’s Jimmy Choos. Weirdly, she almost wanted to. For some reason, part of her was convinced Mrs. Crux would be really super nice about it. Her golden-hazel eyes were so full of warmth. “Cole,” Aiden’s voice sliced through the silence. “This is my mother, Gertrude Crux.” “Please, call me Trudy.”

Elaine’s stepmother stood at the other end of the hallway, casting a dark look at me and my hand that rested on the door. This was Elaine’s Mother Gothel, but it felt like I was staring at a different version of mine.

“Your mother was named Jocelyn Margareta Moncrief de Agentieu. Your father was Robert Christopher Llewellyn ap Iowern. Jocelyn was a direct descendant of Remus and Robert of Romulus. Both passed through the lineage of the Gelert. You know the legend of the Gelert, do you not?” “Yes. She was the mother of Llewellyn’s first born and beheaded because he thought she killed the baby,” Electra said softly. “The moon goddess blessed her to watch him grow from her hilltop.” “There is more, but usually not discussed,” Imogen added. “Gelert herself was named an Elder when her wolf chose a new host. As with the other Elders, the wolf retains memories and knowledge. Because of this, Elder Wolves do not

Even Elijah himself although a murderer and a rapists couldn't believe how evil of a heart Gloria had that she doesn't only wanted her friend dead but wanted her to die in an agonizing manner. What a witch! * “sssss..." An electric kettle hissed.loudly and hot stream escaped from its mouth. An old lady in her late forties or early fifties fully dressed like she was the queen of England casually strolled to the kitchen from the sitting room. Turning off the kettle the old lady rinsed up a medium mug and teaspoon in the sink then poured some of the hot water from the kettle inside the mug. Searching through her kitchen cupboards she bought some tin cans of beverages as she hoped to make a cup

Their compound was a round one, with two buildings facing each other. Well, she was an independent woman and she had never once cried to anyone for help. But if it hadn't been Mrs. Gretchen, the oldest woman in the clan, she would have been cooked to death by her mother and sister. "What are you still doing sweetie, come downstairs, come greet our guest." She knew who it was. Whenever he needed her and visited, her mother would be the nicest she had ever seen but when he was gone.. the woman would turn vile.