Chapter 36: The Matriarch’s Protection 

Chapter 36 The Matriarch’s Protection 

(Matriarch Evelyn’s POV) 

I leaned heavily on my cane, my old bones aching with fury rather than age. The room had fallen into a tense silence after my outburst at Victoria. Good. Let them all remember who still holds the power in this house. 

“Olivia,” I said, reaching for her hand, “with Grandmother here, no one can bully you anymore.” 

The relief in her eyes nearly broke my heart. How long had my poor girl suffered while I was lost in my 

confused memories? 

Victoria’s face had turned an interesting shade of red at my words. I watched with disgust as she quickly composed herself, transforming her rage into a pitiful expression. Tears welled in her eyes as she looked up 

at Ethan. 

“Ethan,” she whispered, her voice trembling perfectly 

I nearly gagged at the performance. Did my grandson truly fall for such obvious manipulation? 

With a dismissive snort, I returned to my seat, my cane thumping against the hardwood floor with each step. The sound seemed to echo my authority through the room. 

“Who allowed Victoria Frost to come in?!” I demanded, my voice sharp enough to make Eleanor flinch. “Didn’t I 

that as long as I’m alive, she’s not allowed to step foot in the Stone family’s house?” 

I fixed my gaze on Ethan, who had the decency to look uncomfortable. 

“So, am I too old now, and my words no longer carry weight in this house?” I continued, letting the accusation 

hang in the air. 

(Victoria’s POV) 

I bit the inside of my cheek until I tasted blood, fighting to maintain my composed expression. The old witch hadn’t directly ordered me to leave, but her message couldn’t have been clearer, 

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This was a public humiliation, designed to remind everyone of my place – or lack thereof in the Stone family hierarchy. 

My eyes sought Ethan’s, silently pleading for him to defend me. He met my gaze briefly before looking away. his jaw tight with tension. 

Eleanor was no better, her eyes fixed firmly on the floor. Not a single word of support from either of them. 

The realization hit me like a physical blow. I was alone in this battle. 

1 should go,” I murmured, making one last attempt to salvage my dignity. “Emma needs rest after her ordeal.” 

I reached for my daughter’s hand, pulling her close to my side. She blinked up at me with confusion, still playing the part of the traumatized child. 

As we walked out of the Stone mansion, I felt Olivia’s eyes on my back. The smugness radiating from her made my skin crawl. 

Once outside, safely hidden from view by the massive oak trees lining the driveway, I let my mask of 

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composure slip. 

“This is all your fault!” I hissed, roughly dropping Emma’s hand 

The sudden movement startled her awake from her feigned drowsiness. She stumbled, falling to her knees 

on the gravel path. 

“Mommy?” Emma called out, her voice small and confused. 

I ignored her, striding toward the waiting car. My heels crunched against the gravel, matching the grinding of my teeth. 

“Mommy, wait for me!” Emma cried, scrambling to her feet and running after me. 

I didn’t slow down. Let her chase me for once. 

(Matriarch Evelyn’s POV) 

As soon as Victoria disappeared through the front door, I straightened my posture. The frail, elderly woman act had served its purpose. 

“Ethan,” I said, my voice leaving no room for argument, “meet me in the Stone Ancestral Hall. Now.” 

Without waiting for his response, I turned to Bernard Sheppard, who stood quietly by the door. “Bernard, bring Isabelle from the hall. I want her to witness this.” 

Bernard bowed deeply. “Yes, Matriarch.” 

I made my way to the Stone Ancestral Hall, my steps purposeful and strong. The ancient stone walls seemed to whisper their approval as I entered the sacred space. 

Isabelle was still kneeling in the center of the room, her expression brightening with relief when she saw me. 

“Grandmother!” she exclaimed, attempting to rise. 

“Who allowed you to get up?” I snapped, my voice echoing off the stone walls. 

Isabelle froze mid–motion, her legs trembling from the extended kneeling. The pain in her knees finally overwhelmed her, causing her to pitch forward onto the cold floor. 

Eleanor rushed to her daughter’s side, helping her back into a kneeling position. “Mother, please,” she pleaded, Isabelle knows she was wrong. She’s learned her lesson.” 

I raised an eyebrow, waiting expectantly. 

Eleanor nudged her daughter. “Isabelle, apologize to your grandmother.” 

Isabelle’s eyes flashed with resentment before she quickly masked it. “Grandmother, I’m sorry, I know I was wrong,” she mumbled, her voice lacking any genuine remorse. 

“You shouldn’t be apologizing to me!” I corrected sharply. 

Isabelle’s head snapped up, confusion written across her features. Then understanding dawned, followed by 

horror. 

“Apologize to Olivia,” Eleanor whispered urgently, giving her daughter another nudge. 

Isabelle’s jaw clenched, but she turned to face Olivia, who stood quietly beside me. “Olivia Winters, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have wronged you,” she forced out through gritted teeth. 

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I studied her face for a moment, finding no true repentance there. But the public apology would have to 

suffice for now, 

“Eleanor, take your daughter and go,” I ordered, waving my hand dismissively. “I need to speak with my grandson.” 

Eleanor didn’t need to be told twice. She helped Isabelle to her feet and quickly ushered her from the hall, not daring to look back. 

As they left, Ethan entered, his powerful frame seeming diminished by the weight of my disapproval. 

“Ethan, kneel down!” I commanded, pointing to the center of the hall. 

Without hesitation, he dropped to his knees before me, his head bowed in submission. The Alpha King of the Silvercrest Pack, reduced to a chastised pup before his grandmother, 

“You promised me you would take good care of Olivia,” I said, circling him slowly. “Is this how you take care of 

her?” 

Each word was a lash against his conscience. I could see the muscles in his shoulders tense with each 

accusation. 

“Bernard,” I called, “bring me the Alpha’s Discipline Rod.” 

Olivia stepped forward, her emerald eyes wide with concern. “Grandmother-” 

“No one is allowed to speak for him,” I interrupted firmly. 

She fell silent immediately, understanding my message. This was between Ethan and me. 

Bernard returned with the polished wooden rod, its ancient runes gleaming in the dim light of the hall. I took it from him, feeling its weight in my aged hands. 

Without warning, I brought it down across Ethan’s back. The sound of wood striking flesh echoed through the 

hall. 

One. Two. Three. 

I continued methodically, each strike precise and powerful despite my age. By the tenth blow, Ethan’s shirt was torn, revealing the raw, reddened skin beneath. 

To his credit, he never made a sound, accepting his punishment with the dignity befitting an Alpha. 

When I finished, I handed the rod back to Bernard, suddenly feeling every one of my many years. The exertion had taken more out of me than I cared to admit. 

“Olivia,” I said, my voice softening, “Grandmother is tired and going to rest. You take care of this boy’s 

wounds.” 

She nodded, her expression a complex mixture of gratitude and concern. 

I patted her hand gently before leaving the hall, satisfied that I had done what I could to restore balance to my family. 

(Olivia’s POV) 

I followed Ethan to his bedroom, maintaining a careful distance between us. The silence stretched uncomfortably as he opened the door and stepped aside to let me enter 

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His private quarters were exactly as I remembered immaculately organized, with dark, masculine furnishings that reflected his powerful personality. 

Ethan moved to the sofa, wincing slightly as he lowered himself onto the edge. With deliberate movements, he removed his tom shirt, revealing the extent of his injuries. 

Angry red welts crisscrossed his broad back, some already darkening to bruises. 

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