All Chapters of His Runaway Queen: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

*Aria’s POV* The past:It was past midnight when I finished searching in the library for my next research. The librarian was forced to stay, because my dad threatened her. I was against the idea, but I needed to finish this work.I left the library and walked back home. It was a 20 minutes walk there so I told Alex, my driver to leave.I decided to take the shortcut, as I was really tired and just wanted to sleep.I didn’t know that this decision would change my life forever.The alley smelled like rain and rust. My shoes splashed through shallow puddles as I walked faster, my bag heavy on my shoulder. My mind was already on tomorrow’s exam as it’s my fourth year in med school.Then I saw blood. A dark trail, smeared across the concrete. My heart stuttered, my mind on full mode as I knew that someone was hurt.I followed the trail slowly, and that’s when I found him.A man lying half against the wall, half on the ground. One arm twisted unnaturally. His shirt was soaked red. His face

*Aria’s POV*The room they gave me was bigger than the attic I had lived in for four years. That was the first cruelty.A vast bedroom with high ceilings, tall windows, silk curtains, a bard large enough for royalty. Everything in shades gray and cold gold. Everything perfect. Everything beautiful.Everything a cage.I stood in the middle of it, my hands clenched at my sides, feeling like a ghost that had wandered into someone else’s life.Four years of running.Four years of hiding.Four years of surviving.And now I was back in Lucian Drakov’s world, where beauty was a weapon and comfort was a reminder that you owned nothing- not even yourself.The door closed behind me again, with a soft click.This time, it wasn’t locked.That was the second cruelty. Because it meant I didn’t need chains, I was already trapped. And I knew that I needed to leave, but can’t. Not now.I walked solely toward the window and looked out over the estate. The grounds were endless – white stone paths cuttin

*Aria’s POV*I know the rules. And I remember them very clear. I wasn’t scared to break them, but I had to be careful in order for me to leave this hell hole.Lucian was right when he said welcome to hell.He even printed me a card with additional rules. He left it on the vanity beside my bed, as if it were a courtesy instead of a threat.Rule number seven: You will not enter the west wing under any circumstances. Yes, as if we were in some fantasy movie. I know that he’s doing all this to rile me, to make me break a rule and punish me. All his actions were making me hate him.He left the paper, with no explanation, or signature. Lucian’s territory was the west wing. He stayed away from me there. There was his study, his offices and his war rooms. I knew all these details, because I heard the maids talking. He never brought me here when we were together, he always said that I was too pure to come here.Now everything changed. He wasn’t my Lucian anymore.“Nikolai.” I yelled. He knock

*Aria’s POV*The Past.The snow had started again by the time I finished stitching him.It fell quietly outside the clinic window, fat white flakes drifting like they had nowhere urgent to be. The world felt hushed, suspended – like it was holding its breath along with meHe lay on the narrow examination bed, shirt discarded, skin pale beneath the harsh overhead light. “You’re lucky.” I said, more to myself than to him, as I clipped the final suture. My voice sounded steadier than I felt. “Another inch, and you would have bled out in the alley.”His mouth curved faintly – not a smile. Something sharper. Something restrained.“Luck.” He murmured. “That’s not a word people usually associate with me.”I glanced up despite myself.His eyes were open now. The same gray-steel eyes. They were watching me with an intensity that made my pulse stutter. Not feverish. Not weak, they were just alert. As if pain had done nothing to dull him.“You should be resting.” I said, stepping back, busying

*Aria’s POV*Back to the present.The corridors were too quiet. Not the peaceful kind – the kind that pressed against my ears until my thoughts grew loud and frantic. Every step echoed, every breath sounded wrong, as if the mansion itself was holding still, waiting for the moment it would exhale and crush me.Adrian was asleep in my arms.His fever had finally broken, but his skin was still too warm, his lashed damp against his cheeks. I clutched him closer than necessary, my body curled protectively around his small frame as if I could shield him from what was coming.Because I knew that something was coming, I could feel it.Lucian never let disobedience pass in silence.The guards escorted us to my room without a word. Their faces were blank, professional, unmoved – which frightened me more than anger would have. They opened the door, stepped aside, and waited.I laid Adrian down gently on the bed, smoothing his curls back, whispering nonsense promises under my breath. ‘Mama’s here