Damian Wayne Novels & Stories

He’s a tamer version of Dante with the right amount of Damien mixed up in one just as deadly combination. Damitri is heavy handed and shot first ask questions later type of guy but I know that even though my guys are like that, with me they are all giant teddy bears filled with nothing but mushy stuff and love. “Call Liam and have him come over and wait with you” Damien says as an order more then a suggestion.

Damian Tucker, a 28-year-old man, sat in his office on the fifth floor of a magnificent five-story building. He had blue eyes, short black hair, and several tattoos on his body. His right arm bore a cross tattoo, and on his left arm was an eagle tattoo. Two women’s names were tattooed on his right chest. Damian was a mafia boss, respected and feared in his community. He ruled the secret mafia world and cartel in Northwind Town. Inside his office, Damian wore a black suit and sat at his desk, going through his laptop to check his other coded business.

That was why he chose to do it the way that he did. “Damon knows what he is doing, and Damon is well aware of everything that he is playing with. However, it does not concern him. He does not even give a damn. He does not care.” I said, looking at Alpha Kael. “You know for a fact that he does not care about me.” “That is not true, Sienna.”

And Damian… Damian is a Lycan blooded Alpha. Even if I tried to fight, I wouldn’t last one second. But still, my eyes flick toward the heavy lamp. The corner table. The chair leg. I run through every weapon I could use—every opening I might find. But the answers are all the same. He’s stronger and he will win. The mattress creaks as I sit, bones stiff with dread. I stare at the floor, the lingerie clinging to my damp skin, praying for some miracle, some divine intervention—

“So, are you going to introduce yourself one last time before we change your identity and send you off to Italy?” For the first time, he smiled. It wasn’t wide, not smug—just small, tired, like a man letting out a secret he’d been holding too tightly. He took the glass. “My name is Damian.” I repeated it under my breath, tasting it. “Damian.” I tilted my head, studying him the way I might study a chess piece before deciding where it fit on the board. “And who, Damian, is the person that has it out for Harvest Bloom?”

“What do we do now?” Damian didn’t answer immediately. His mind raced, jaw tight. “Tell the delegate…” he began, voice low, steady, but his eyes dark as fire. “…to make the Wilson server slow down.” The command hung heavy in the air. Everyone froze. No one moved. Then Damian turned away, his reflection caught in the glass sharp, powerful, haunted. He whispered to himself, “What the hell are we all becoming?” Outside, thunder cracked over the city skyline, and somewhere across town, Aria’s laptop pinged a new notification lighting up the screen.

“Don’t get sentimental on me, Blackwood. I might start to think you like having me around.” Before Ethan could respond, a frantic voice crackled over the comms. **** Damian had sworn to himself, to anyone who bothered listening, that he wasn’t going to help. He’d said it loudly enough for half the warriors to hear: “I’m only here to watch the Almighty Alpha Blackwood burn the world down. I'm not here to fight.” And yet…Here he was doing the unthinkable. He moved with the quiet precision of someone who has spent his life pretending not to care. Slipping away from the training grounds, he made a single call through one of his many shadow channels, informants and trackers he never publicly ackn

And I knew quite well that if I didn't pay him his money back completely he'd never let me walk away. Damian sat on the edge of the bed, eyes lowered, his expression so dark I couldn't tell what he was really thinking. I wiped his back with a wet towel. I couldn’t understand why he was burning up so quickly. “What’s wrong?” I asked him. “It’s fine, don’t worry.” He replied. Unknown to me Damian was in serious pain. He has been celibate for over two months which was not the usual case for a male werewolf of his caliber and right now my presence was making it harder to control himself because he was slipping into rut.

Damian realized he'd gripped too hard. He let go fast. The pain hit sharp through my whole wrist. I looked down at the bruise already spreading across my skin, deep purple forming fast. The dirty work of the Coronelli family had always been Damian's specialty: tracking down debtors, clearing out traitors, the kind of work that built strength and paid well. After years of it, he was stronger than almost anyone, the kind of man who could snap a neck barehanded if he had to.

He asks while introducing himself. Beta Damian is a little on the short side for a werewolf of rank. He’s about 6ft, has sandy blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. He’s well-built and has tattooed sleeves. He has a well-maintained beard, almost short enough to only be called stubble. It works for him.