Damien Antichrist Novels & Stories

"So why did you call me...son? Do you want to get a sister, perchance? From the black-haired one?" I shook my head, but Martha didn't let me answer, interrupting me. "Don't play games with the child, ye demon." "If he summoned me, he's not a child anymore, he's a necromancer," the demon's logic made sense. "You may call me Argadon, boy." "I'm Alex. Alexander Leonard Radenor. "Radenor... Is it a country in this world?" "Yes," I said. "Shouldn't you know this?"

I kept my hands folded in my lap as we drove, wondering what I had gotten myself into by agreeing to this. Inside the car, it was quiet for a long time. I finally broke the silence. “Tell me about your family.” Damien’s expression changed right away. “There’s not much to tell.” “I doubt that,” I said. After a pause, he started talking. “My father remarried after my mother died. Victoria is my stepmother. She likes control.” I smiled a little. “That’s your warning?” “No.” He glanced at me briefly. “This is. Answer only what you’re asked. Don’t volunteer information.”

Caitlin grabbed a chair and sat down adjacent to me, her bare thighs squashing down onto the seat as she folded her ankles and leaned back. She gestured with her hand to let me continue, almost impatiently and I cocked an eyebrow at her with a small smile. This woman… "If," I emphasised. "You're willing. Your target would be Lucas Trevino, software engineer and owner of Godfather nightclub." I paused for her reaction and she simply just nodded her head waiting for me to continue.

Alexander muttered, rubbing his waist and his butts with his palms furiously, where the Alpha mutt had been pressing against him. "I need a shower. A long one. With bleach and may be holy water tok." Saying this he hurried to the bathroom to erase the intoxicating smell of the Alpha Mutt which was driving him crazy. Back in the mansion, Alpha King Damian stood in the middle of his room, his eyes glowing a murderous, incandescent gold. He was looking like a god of war who had just lost his greatest treasure. He looked at the empty spot on the pillow, his jaw locking with enough force to shatter bone. He gripped the bedpost so hard the wood splintered and snapped in his hand.

"Or would you like me to strip here to prove that I am not the woman named Camila you speak of?" Damian took a step back, his face deathly pale. Is it possible I’m truly wrong? Could my guilt be creating this illusion? he thought. Yet his heart kept screaming that this woman was his wife. "I will prove it," Damian said in a heavy voice full of both threat and desperation. "I will find out who you really are, Sheina Blake." Sheina smiled, and this time her smile looked almost pitying. "By all means, Mr. Xavier. Spend your money on that. Meanwhile, I will continue to create works that remind the world how fragile people like you truly are."

“You look perfect like this. My perfect mess.” I pulled back with a wet gasp, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “You’re—horrible.” He smirked. “And you’re trembling.” “Shut up,” I hissed, and took him back into my mouth before I could second-guess myself. This time, his breath broke. “Dio onnipotente.” (Almighty God.)

I returned the gaze suspiciously. “We have a very important guest today,” Dad said just as footsteps echoed through the room. I turned to see him—Damien. Dressed all in black, looking like a king. His outfit and presence commanded power. “What the fuck…” I cursed under my breath, wondering why he was dining at my house. “Damien Kings, welcome,” Dad said, standing to shake his hand. Theo followed suit.

Holy- My chaotic thoughts scattered as Damien stepped inside, wearing nothing but low-slung trousers that hung dangerously at his V-line, teasing a trail of dark hair that disappeared beneath the waistband. His torso, carved to sinful perfection, glistened faintly in the dim light, and his disheveled hair made him look every bit like the devil incarnate. I fought to keep my gaze on his face-a face just as destructive as the rest of him-and not let it wander further. Fucking Lucifer's descendant.

“My word. An Alpha's word is his bond. Choose wisely, for the path you tread now will shape not only your fate but the destiny of Nocturna.” “I won't betray my people for you, Damon. I am the High Priestess of the Moon Church, what do you think King Vincent will do to me when he finds out that you backstabbed him?” Damon snarls in response to her words. He seizes the bottle of wine Cleo is drinking and takes a gulp, attempting to quell his growing rage. His dark eyes intensify as he remarks, “What do you suppose Vincent will do when he discovers your hand in providing me information that led to his defeat in the last war? Cleo, you've already betrayed him.”

Damien remained unmoved. That moment I wished for the soft hearted Damien who would do anything for me. The Damien who hated my tears, pain and sought after my happiness. The Damien who was always a call away, my leach that was stocked to me. The Damien before me was the replica of the devil. He had no emotion, sympathy or empathy.