Runway Queen Novels & Stories

Not by name. Not yet. By position. By presence. By the way they stand close together, uncertain, watching. Fear holds them in place. Not loud fear. Quiet fear. The kind that spreads slowly through the body until movement becomes impossible. My gaze moves to the Queen first. She stands tall despite the tension in her shoulders. Her face is composed, carefully controlled, but grief lingers beneath the surface. I see it in the tightness around her eyes. In the way her hands remain clasped too tightly before her.

He moved through the crowd like a tide, signature after signature, staying focused. He didn’t look at me. Not once. I told myself it made sense. He was busy. This wasn’t personal. So I buried myself in my own work. When he eventually called my name, I didn’t flinch. I followed instructions, I filed away the flip in my stomach like it didn’t matter. The Queen arrived at noon. She swept through the hallway with the kind of grace that turned heads without needing to try. Flanked by two guards in tailored black suits, she moved like silence followed her on command. The buzz of conversation evaporated.

Runa narrowed her grey gaze at the queen, scrutinizing her. Trying to discern any emotion behind her exotic features, coming up empty handed. This queen was hard to read. "You are the only one strong enough to kill him. And though I am queen, all minions, as you call them, have pledged their loyalty to the King. Not to me." Runa thought she saw a glint of humor pass through her eyes then vanish as she spread her wings wide, slowly walking towards her. "And you want me to pledge my allegiance to you? To become your pon in your game of chess with the world? And what of my pack?" The queen stopped, a look of shock clear in her eyes.

She couldn’t allow that. At the bottom of the stairs, Queen had reached a maintenance exit. She yanked the door open and ducked outside into the palace’s enclosed gardens. Kael and Amy followed, but as soon as they reached the open space, Queen’s momentum increased. She ran across the manicured paths, the baby’s cries piercing the night. Amy felt tears prickle her eyes. “Kael… she’s going to get away with him!” Kael’s eyes narrowed. “Not if we’re faster.”

"Wearing a crown. Coiled around a broken sword." Varek took one slow step back. Boots bolted to the floor. "That line is dead," Varek said. The words came out like gravel. "The Sovereign King and his wife burned in the Sector Four sweeps. Ten years ago. There was no child." "The girl is twenty," Tor said. Voice coming back now. Harder. Like he'd made a decision. "She grew up in Sector Four. She fights with the Sovereign form... you saw it yourself in the hallway. And her father isn't hiding from a shipping debt." Something moved in Tor's face. Something complicated and old and guilty. "He's a Royal Guard. He's been keeping her buried in the outer rim for ten years to keep her breathing."

Against all odds. But holding is not the same as winning. And eventually, they could not hold anymore. I turned the page. And found a portrait. Just a sketch, really. Pen and ink. Faded with age. A woman. She was not young in the portrait, but she was not old either. She was somewhere in between, in that particular place where a person stops looking like what they were and starts looking like what they are. Her hair was loose. Her expression was not afraid. Mira. Last Queen of the Witch Covens. Keeper of the High Flame. Killed in the forty-third year of the Crimson War by Aldric the Elder, great-great-grandfather of the current Alpha King.

He too was bowing, his head lowered in respect. I blinked in confusion. Kayden was an Alpha. He would never bow to me—an Omega. But here he was, along with the others, all of them calling out the same words in unison. “Hail our Queen.” My heart pounded in my chest. “Queen?” I whispered, my voice trembling. This didn’t make sense. I wasn’t a queen. I wasn’t even an Alpha. Why were they bowing to me? Before I could ask more questions, the dream began to fade. The forest, the wolves, and the strange power I felt all started to slip away, like sand through my fingers.

Betrayed by her mate and framed for treason, Athena, a, wolfless Omega, and daughter of traitors—has no choice but to run for her life. Hunted by pack warriors, she flees into the dark woods, her heart broken and her future uncertain. But fate always has a cruel twist in store. One minutes, she's in the woods running for her life, the very next minute, she's in the room of the most feared Alpha, who.is none other than the father of her cruel mate. The domineering Alpha king backs her up against the wall, her bones quivering from the hunger-filled glint in his gaze as he hand glides over her most sensitive skin in a soft caress. "I'll never let you escape from me again, mat

I swiftly correct my expression, lifting my chin slightly to show my confidence as I give her a nod to lead the way. Sure enough, she leads me out onto the runway, where a small jet is waiting with the pilot on the side of the stairs leading into it. Just as I take the first step onto the stairs, I turn around to see the young woman watching me with envy. "Have you ever been to New York?" I ask, nearly shouting as the rumbling sound of the jet drowns out most of my voice. Her eyes land on mine wide, and she shakes her head vigorously. I look around the empty runway as though I am looking for confirmation of my idea, finding only myself to make the decision. With a shrug, I bring my attention

“Now go out there and kill them. Break hearts, steal souls, take no prisoners.” Aurelia gave him a playful salute, her silver heels clicking against the polished floor as she followed the other models toward the runway entrance. Behind her, Jake clasped his hands under his chin and sighed loud enough for everyone to hear. “My baby’s all grown up,” he wailed. Her smile widened as she stepped into the backstage glow. The music swelled beyond the curtains, the roar of an eager Paris crowd waiting. Tonight, the world was watching—and Aurelia was ready to own every second of it.