Damian Demon นิยาย & เรื่องราว

His strength was terrifying, beyond anything anyone could imagine. Damian cracked his neck and flexed his enormous hands. The priest who had led him down this dark path smiled darkly. “Welcome back, Alpha,” he said with a bow. “Now, you will be unstoppable.” But the room wasn’t without resistance. Another priest, trembling but defiant, shouted, “You’ll never be unstoppable! The purest of heart will still defeat you!” Damian’s eyes darkened as he turned toward the priest. With a growl that shook the room, he grabbed the man by the neck, lifting him with ease.

Kendrick looked at him warily, but Damon just smiled. "I believe we were discussing the terms of our deal," he said, his eyes glinting with amusement. Kendrick nodded, his expression cautious. "Yes, that's right." Damon leaned forward, his eyes locked on Kendrick's face. "I want a piece of your company," he said, his voice firm. "And I want it now." Kendrick hesitated, clearly taken aback by Damon's demands. But Damon just smiled, his eyes glinting with ruthlessness.

When they ask of me, tell them that, something popped up so I will arrive later. Okay Alpha, I will do exactly as told. I cut the mindlink and go back to my room to pack for my journey. Everyone calls me the Demon and I agree with them. Yes I'm ruthless and wicked but only to the bad guys. I have never killed an innocent person and I don't plan on doing so. But you can't stop rumors and also what people think about you. My name is Kyle Aston, the Alpha of the Black crystal pack and also the strongest Alpha in the world.

"What could that be? Amelia asked shivering. "The question is who could that be " Eric replied quiet unmoved by the gun shots. "It could be Derek, Samantos, Anna or anybody ". He took the fork and knife. He held the full chicken on one of the trays with the fork and cut it with the knife. He picked it with the knife into his mouth savoring every taste. "God please forgive me, holy Mart take control. Angel Micheal, son of God. I mean Angel Gabriel, the son of God, oh my fucking God, someone should just take control ". She was breathing heavily as she said the prayers.

Damon stood by the glass, suit jacket off, sleeves rolled up, looking dangerous and hungry. “Close the door,” he ordered. She did. “Damon, about last night—” He moved fast. In two strides he had her pinned against the cool glass, her back to the city. His big hand yanked her skirt up roughly around her waist. “Shut up,” he growled. “I’ve been hard all day thinking about this dripping cunt.” Before she could argue, he dropped to his knees right there in his expensive suit. His strong hands ripped her soaked panties down her legs and tossed them aside.

I had to move fast. I turned through the pages of the spell book with shaky hands until I finally settled on what I was searching for. “Thrakos, Demon of the Underworld, Lord of Hell,” I whispered, my fingers tracing the forbidden verse. “He who commands the forbidden flames of the devil's domain,” my voice grew louder, desperation etched in my eyes, "I call thee, Thrakos. I summon thee to the mortal realm. Kneel before–” The sound of thunder cracking cut me short before I could complete my words. The ground began to rumble and the circle I had engraved on the ground expanded outwards as dark smoke clouded the entire place.

The heavy oak door slammed against the wall, and a blast of freezing sleet swept into the hallway. Damian Cross stood in the doorway. He didn't look like a hero who had ridden through the rain to save her. He didn't look like a savior. He looked like a demon who had risen out of the black, icy water of the lake itself. He was soaked to the bone. His black trench coat was heavy with water, dripping onto the dusty rug in a steady, rhythmic thud-thud-thud. His hair, usually so perfectly styled, was slicked back from his forehead, making his features look sharper, more severe.

“I am Damian, the Defender. This is my duty. Regnar! Everything is in your hands now.” Regnar merely nodded, eyes burning with ferocity. He lifted two fingers to his lips and released a muffled cry—the mute demon’s battle call. Damian opened the chamber’s rear emergency exit, rarely used. He cast one last look our way before the darkness of the corridor swallowed him. Now only Regnar and I remained with Sadira. Two wounded demons and a frail but dangerously powerful hybrid, standing at the most protected yet most vulnerable point of the Nest. “Come closer, Jake,” Sadira whispered. “We don’t have much time.”

"Weren't you two enemies in the great wars between races in the past? How did you end up gaining such high authority by disguised as me?" Damien took a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, took one out of the box, and sandwiched the filter between his upper and lower lips. He lit the end of the cigarette with the lighter and sucked the pleasure smoke into his lungs before exhaling it calmly into the air. "I said that I also like living weapons experiments. By forcing the race of demon spirits into one's soul." "And you think Aaron will believe your bullshit?"

His hole clenched rhythmically, slick and open, aching to be filled despite the exhaustion of the exorcism attempt. Damian stood at the foot of the bed, eyes glowing faint red instead of their usual dark intensity. The demonic entity—the final fragment of the ShadowMaster—hadn’t been fully exorcised. The ritual they had attempted with the neural interface and the silver antidote had only partially succeeded. The demon was trapped inside Damian, sharing his body, whispering commands in a voice only Damian could hear. It wore Damian’s face like a mask, but the smile was wrong—too sharp, too hungry, too empty of the love that had defined the man Alex knew.