Damian Robin Costume Novels & Stories

Just as she was about to tidy up the brooch on the dress's chest, suddenly… "Miss Tamara is so busy." The deep voice made Tamara turn around immediately. "Mr. DAMIAN?!" Tamara exclaimed, half-shouting. Damian stood casually at the entrance of the boutique, wearing a black jacket and dark sunglasses. His smile was crooked, sarcastic, and extremely annoying to Tamara. "What are you doing here?!" Tamara took a step forward, her eyes sharp. "This is a boutique, not a place for you to cause trouble!" "I just wanted to look around… maybe find a dress suitable for… ah, revenge," Damian replied casually, then stepped inside.

"Hey guys" Robyn greets us with enthusiasm before taking a seat by my left. "I love your jumpsuit!" Cassie compliments her and we join in with smiles. Robyn always looks good, that's for sure. I'm not surprised she opted not to wear a dress like ninety nine percent of the ladies here, she always liked to stand out. Damon collects two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter and takes his seat. He knocks one back with a single gulp and takes another sip from the second. He looks to be in a bad mood.

He had done that before, but now the gesture felt somehow more genuine. "That outfit is lovely, Pet," Damien said, "but it is not practical for the road. We will have to find something better." I looked down at myself. That morning, Damien had ordered the servants to dress me in a pair of loose, sheer pants and a brief shirt that left my midriff and arms bare. Both were in ice blue silk with tiny crystals sewn in patterns at the waist and neckline. It was one of the less horrible outfits, but it would not survive any amount of travel.

"The police... Evander’s men... they’re going to hunt us down!" "Let them try," Damian growls over his shoulder. Without the mask, his voice is a raw, gravelly baritone that slices through the roaring storm. The sharp, tailored lines of his slate-gray suit jacket are completely ruined, soaked through with rain, and the cuffs of his white dress shirt are stained a faint, sickening pink from Evander’s blood. He looks entirely like a demon running from a burning sanctuary. He jerks me around a tight brick corner, and my breath is instantly knocked right out of my lungs.

Isabella whispered, adjusting the veil. Adriana smiled faintly. “I am a queen. Just… not the kind they wrote fairy tales about.” “No,” Isabella said softly. “Better.” Across the cathedral, Damian stood at the altar. Gone was the bloodstained leather and tactical gear. He wore a tailored black suit with a crisp white shirt and a charcoal tie. A single white rose pinned to his lapel mirrored the one Adriana would carry. His presence filled the room like gravity—silent, dangerous, magnetic.

Damian said, and added “ This is life ” They parked near a shady alley and Damian stepped out of the driver’s seat. He wore a black leather jacket, ripped jeans, and combat boots. So far from royal robes and ceremonial armor he may as well have been someone else entirely. He was no longer a prince today. Just a twenty year old guy with too much energy and a hunger for something real, for his mate and freedom. “You look like the love interest in a high school drama,” Kevin smirked. “If the girls weren’t staring before, they definitely will now.”

He whispered into my ear as he hugged me tightly from behind. I suddenly turned around and hugged him tightly as I bawled my eyes out while he stroked my back gently… It hurts so much but with him by myself I was able to get it off my chest… Damian kept hugging me till I felt much better and together we walked outta the morgue wearing tight black coats and shades.. Damian was clad in a black denim Jean which was ripped on the knee, a black shirt and a coat.. Same thing goes for me, I wore a black body con dress with black boots and a black coat also..

He whispered into my ear as he hugged me tightly from behind. I suddenly turned around and hugged him tightly as I bawled my eyes out while he stroked my back gently… It hurts so much but with him by myself I was able to get it off my chest… Damian kept hugging me till I felt much better and together we walked outta the morgue wearing tight black coats and shades.. Damian was clad in a black denim Jean which was ripped on the knee, a black shirt and a coat.. Same thing goes for me, I wore a black body con dress with black boots and a black coat also..

Damien ignored it and knocked on the door twice. “Come in, boss.” A deep voice replied. Damien walked in, adjusting his mask. “Thank you, Diablo.” The Diablo smiled, flicking his pen. “Whenever I see you wear a mask when walking in here, it makes me want to laugh.” Damien rolled his eyes, taking the mask off. “It’s because you run this place like it’s some illegal place when it’s not. I can’t risk my identity being exposed.” A young girl ran into the room and Damien hurriedly covered his face. “Oh, it’s my daughter.” Diablo said with a smile.

Told her she was his mate and he was going to do everything right by her. Guard her and ensure she doesn't end up like the rest of them. Damien groaned once more. His thoughts were in disarray, and it was all because of this girl in front of him. "You should make yourself comfortable," he continued, then his brows creased as he looked her up and down for the first time since she stepped in. He was undoubtedly staring at her face; otherwise, he'd have noticed the clothes she was in. The dress wasn't one that was befitting of a princess or even a Luna. It escaped being a maid's gown and looked more like the one's peasant.