Damian Priest X Reader Novels & Stories

Damien said hastily as he leaned close to me, making it a bit hard for the driver to listen to our conversation, and if he dared, we would have seen him before he even started. "Sometimes, I sit all by myself and read books, Alpha Xavier would encourage me at times, but when's he's not in the mood, he could even tear the books to shreds if I wasn't paying attention to him. So I read many books while I was a maid and also on few occasions."I explained, remembering how it felt reading books in secrets, which I didn't know would turn out to be of great help to me. "Which books exactly? Because I've never seen you in the library"Damien was quite right, having the thoughts that I only visited the

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.

The Queen turned to the King, her mouth opening to argue, but his raised hand silenced her. Damien’s shadow fell over me as he crouched slightly, his voice low enough for only me to hear. “Don’t look, little flame,” he murmured, the words gentle despite the tension in his tone. “You don’t need to see this.” The trapdoors fell with a sickening thud. My father, my mother, my brother—gone. A scream tore from my throat, raw and uncontrollable. I collapsed to the ground, my legs giving out beneath me. I didn’t need to see it; the sound alone was enough to shatter what was left of my heart.

But Damian's brow was furrowed, his eyes darting between me and the High Priestess, like he suspected something. I forced a smile, trying to change the subject, my voice as sweet as I could make it: "Damian, didn't you say... you weren't feeling well? I'll go to the Moon Goddess Cave and channel some soul essence for you." At the mention of soul essence, Damian's eyes lit up with urgency. My willingness to put his needs first, even after "miscarrying," seemed to erase any doubts he had. He put his arm around my shoulder, pulling me close as he led me towards the Moon Goddess Cave. He even whispered in my ear, his warm breath tickling my sensitive earlobe:

Dante’s imagination and fascination with mid-evil torture divides a gore makes him one of those people who would take enjoyment out of watching someone slowly bleed out while watching them suffer until he gets his answers. Damien is the level headed, silent one who you’d think would be the scariest but he’s not, he’s more methodical when it comes to his plans and what I’ve come to learn makes him grate at mental interrogation. Like one of those people who with a single glance can detect the smallest of micro movements and know your intentions or that your lying. Then there’s Damitri the man with a plan and an irritation fuse so sort he’s most likely to slap the shit out of someone sir sniffl

She smiled at the guests. Damian watched her approach. He didn’t smile. He didn’t tear up. He watched her with the polite, detached interest of a man watching a stock ticker. She reached the altar. Desmond handed her over. Damian took her hand. He didn’t squeeze it. He just held it. The ceremony began. The priest spoke of love, of sacrifice, of two souls becoming one. The words felt like lies. They floated up into the high vaulted ceiling and dissolved. “Do you, Damian Alfred Cross,” the priest intoned, “take Cassandra Elizabeth Hale to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

Tania's POV I was barely touching the tiramisu in front of me, the bitter sweetness failing to reach my nerves, when the television flickered. West’s attention was buried in his laptop, fingers moving across the keyboard, his jaw set in an unreadable way and it made him look like he was calculating the end of the world. And then the screen cut to Damian. He was smiling, impossibly self-assured, with Kella by his side. Her hand rested lightly on his arm, the kind of intimacy we never had, that made my chest tighten with a cocktail of anger, disbelief, and fear. The chyron below screamed in bold letters:

He just shut the door behind him and began gesturing into the room, his eyes dragging across every inch of her body. Isadora’s body quivered from within, the look in his eyes stirring up something rough and dangerous within her. But she shut it out. Because… she couldn’t be dripping or desiring him again, like he and his brother didn’t fucking ruin her body like she was theirs to greedily ravish. “So, you are into stuff like this?” Damian asked, raising the book that she was reading. It was a dark romance, and the title was enough introduction about what the book contained.

His attention sharpens—not away from me, but through me. I follow his gaze. Victor Hale steps into view, polished and smug as ever, Elara at his side like an accessory she believes she earned. They move with the ease of people who think this world still belongs to them. My pulse doesn’t spike. It settles. Damien’s voice lowers, smooth as a blade. “Want to end the foreplay early? We could skip straight to the main event. I’ve already got two graves dug in Antarctica.” I laugh, all teeth and no warmth. “And miss the show? Not a chance. I want them to see me.”

“They were family.” Damien sat with perfect, aristocratic posture despite his torn black shirt and crimson-flecked eyes. “Damien Crowe. Graduate student. Pure-blood vampire. I drove a silver blade through my sire’s heart tonight. The man who gave me this cursed existence… called me his greatest pride.” A bitter smile touched his lips. “Now I’m alone in the bloodline.”