Vampire Queen’s POV
“I love watching men fight for me,” I muttered under my breath, a soft chuckle escaping before I could stop it. “You’d think the novelty would wear off.”
Men and their fragile ego.
They always fought.
For centuries, they always did.
Across empires, ages, languages, cities that no longer existed… men tore each other apart in front of me, hoping I'd pick whichever one bled prettier. And now here they were again—Lucas and Leo—doing the exact same thing.
The accents changed, the stakes changed, but the script? The script was always the same.
I sat curled into the sofa like a satisfied cat, legs folded, shirt sliding halfway down one shoulder, wine bottle dangling lazily from my fingers. Watching them trade insults and glares, as if either one actually stood a chance of owning me.