Damian Robin Costume Novels & Stories

It made a soft, expensive sound. In the reflection, she looked like a woman who had won, but her eyes were still scanning for the next move. Always the next move. She pulled on a robe of sheer, midnight-blue lace that didn't hide much and didn't intend to. Damien was out on the terrace. He was still wearing his tuxedo trousers, but he’d ditched the jacket and the tie. He looked out over the Mediterranean, a glass of vintage cognac in his hand. He looked like a king surveying a kingdom he was finally enjoying.

“Agreed.” The rest of the day passed in a controlled frenzy. I chose a blood-red gown for the summit — elegant, powerful, with a high collar and long sleeves to hide the bruises and scars. Damien wore a tailored black suit that made him look every inch the Reaper, even with the slight limp. We stood together in front of the mirror, a matching pair of dark royalty. “You look like sin,” he murmured, coming up behind me and wrapping his arms around my waist. “My favorite kind.”

He did not have facial hair, his skin was as smooth as silk if only there were no scars all over it I would have declared him the most handsome man in the world regardless I still declared him the most handsome, in my world at least. “Here is your order sir.” I place his order and as l was about to furiously walk away he called me. “Excuse me Miss?” I turn around to face him; did he just call me back? Did he also enjoy our close to no conversation? It’s nothing I should not be freaking out, so why am l freaking out? “Yes?” l say without falter in my speech. “I am not really familiar with lemon muffins but l don’t think these are lemon muffins they look more blue berry than lemon.”

Sienna: I stared at the folded blouse on the bed for longer than necessary. It wasn’t special. Just a pale blue button-up I’d worn before, once, maybe twice but it felt heavier today. Like it knew what the day meant. Like it carried the weight I was trying so hard not to buckle under. “I had it ironed for you last night,” Damon’s voice came from behind me, quiet and careful. “I figured that you might want to wear it. Since you know, you had it taken out of the closet last night.”

It was war smelling the mate bond. I thought the bond was dead. “You smell like power now,” he growled. “Like storms and the moonlight. What really happened to you?” I stood tall, refusing to hide my body. “I survived. I was what you tried to kill.” Damon’s jaw dropped. For the first time, I felt pain appear right in his eyebrows. “I was wrong, Annie. Cassandra lied to me. I only allowed pride and fear to make me throw away the best thing in my life… my coming Luna.”

That’s when I saw Damian. He stood near the wide glass doors to the backyard, drink in hand, black button-down fitting him well. But his eyes were glued to Leon. Not casual glances—full, lingering stares. Tracing the costume, the way it hugged Leon’s waist and shoulders, the exposed skin at his collarbone. The look was hungry. Interested. Too damn interested.

He was so close I could feel the heat radiating off his chest. He smelled like expensive mint, dark coffee, and that faint, intoxicating hint of smoke. "You should go," he repeated, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous purr. He planted one large hand on the door right beside my head, caging me in. "But we both know you're not going anywhere, Roxy." Hearing my name on his lips made my breath hitch. "How do you know my name?" Damian let out a dark, rough chuckle. He reached into the pocket of his dark trousers with his free hand, and when he pulled it out, the silver caught the dim light of the office.

Damien says, taking a seat. “Where is she, I can't wait to see her.” Rowan states, smiling cheekily one might think it's their first time setting their eyes on her. “She is getting ready, though she doesn't know where we are taking her.” Owen informs them. Damien has a black denim trouser and a matching jacket. The jacket is let open, revealing his white t-shirt underneath it. His hair is neatly combed, and his face so jovial. Rowan has his usual boring clothes as Ruby terms them. He has black From head to toe, as always with his black earrings. He has applied black eye pencil in his lower eyelids. Which Ruby loves. His hair is neatly laid back.

Everyone was there in the center crowded around the fire pit, when they noticed Ruby and I everyone went quiet and you could hear Damian whistled and say, "Damn ladies who knew y'all could clean up like this." Seeing him stand by Ryker I took a long look at both of them seeing that they were dressed nicely themselves, so I got the nerve to call back to Damian, "Right back at you, who knew that you could even put pants on." Everyone chuckled at my reply and I heard some mumble agreements because since I have been here I have never seen Damian in jeans only sweats or basketball shorts. He had a huge smile on his face as Ruby and I walked over to where they were. Wiggling his eyebrows he said,

I haven’t seen Damien in years and damn, Monique was right. He’s changed. He doesn’t look like the Damien I once dated. The man standing here looks like a better version of himself. He looks hotter actually and he’s been working out too. Through the dark blue dress shirt he’s wearing, you can see the outlines of his well-chiseled body. His gray eyes stare into my brown ones and I’m left stunned. “Damien?” “Hello, Robyn.” He gives me a nervous smile as he bites his bottom lip.