Standing underneath a lightless sky was Leonardo the revered king of vampires, his red eye glimmering with malice in the darkness of the Badlands.
The king was hunched, bruised and missing an arm his breathing was strained and laboured, and there were gaping wounds and cuts all around him.
His body was stained with blood, both that of his and that of his enemies.
All the while a single thought had been lingering on his mind. He'd come into the desert in hopes of getting stronger while searching for his mate--but he was still the same.
He wasn't like his sister--she was a prodigy.
After she'd fled overseas, his narcissistic ego was left to bloom. He wasn't even as strong as his father in his glory days--he was still weak!
Surrounding him were a mixture of werewolves and vampires--t
