Damien Bloodmarch Novels & Stories

"And I'm not leaving until I know he's dead or I see him walk through that door." Carlo opened his mouth to argue and then footsteps echoed from the entrance, slow and uneven, and I was up with my gun drawn before my brain registered movement. Damien stumbled through the doorway looking like he'd been dragged behind a car, his left arm hanging useless and his shirt soaked through with blood that was still spreading. "Fuck." I was across the church before Carlo could stop me, catching Damien before he collapsed and feeling how cold his skin was despite the blood that was hot and sticky against my hands. "What happened, how bad is it?"

Damien being no exception. Damien tested to see if he would flinch as he acted as if he was going for a hit, but Dan didn’t move. The cold stare in his eyes never faltered from his. The same eye color, the caramel brown, different skin tone, but the same damn bone structure as the man he wanted to kill more than anything. Seeing him in person didn’t deter his hate. It only fueled it as he charged full speed towards Dan. Surprisingly, Damien connected knocking Dan to the car he wanted to get, placing his forearm on his throat.

“I’m sorry… I went for a run and I was testing my powers to see if I had any and then the Yokai showed up…” “Hey.” He looks up at me. “It’s ok. I’m sorry, I didn’t know that happened.” “I’m sorry that I’m in here with you, you’re probably so embarrassed. I know I am.” Damian looks so sad. I can tell that he didn’t want to come to me like this but he had no choice. Whatever happened to him in the woods, I’d figure it out for him. Poor guy must be so embarrassed. But actually he didn’t look that bad! I can see his muscles peeking out from his torso. He had the body of a Greek warrior. I only got a glimpse of his lower half but from what I saw, he looked hot!

As the time moved closer to midnight, the streets of Orilon emptied. Cold winds rustled the leaves fallen on the roads, lifting them, only for the wind to vanish a while later, bringing the leaves back to the ground. Damien ran as fast as he could. Even if there was a human lurking around, he didn't care if they noticed his inhumane speed. His mind was only focused on the destination. His veins craved for blood as he never did before. He thought of Dana but there was no sadness in him—only the urge to avenge her.

“ he added like that would make me feel any better. “What about Skylo? The others? Camillé?“I bit my tongue, wanting to ask more but something about the way Damien moved told me he wasn’t in the mood. I moved my gaze away from him, still looking around, observing the new space when a soft groan escaped his lips. “Ouch.“ I heard him grunt and I snapped my head to his direction. Blood. It had stained through his shirt sleeve. “You’re bleeding,” I breathed out, frightened by the sight of it. God. I hated blood so much. The sight of blood always reminded me of my mum. Damien just stared at me, not saying anything, not even moving an inch. I rushed over before he could stop me. “Let me see.” My h

I asked, and followed his gaze, and then , there he was. Damien. He stood at the center of a shifting platform, robed in shadow and bone. Four mirrors floated around him, each reflecting twisted images. His past, our past, the fall of his pack, and the moment he was cast out. His betrayal. He wasn't yet fully merged, but the changes were showing, etched into his arms. Veins of ashes covered his arms, and his eyes glowed bright red. He smiled at us, like he'd been awaiting our arrival

Mason growled so deep I felt my heart vibrate. “ What did we agree about that nasty bloodlust of yours huh???? ” She replied with a life threatening smile as she grabbed his ears tighter. “ Let go ” Mason whispered . “ Behave ” Carmel snapped “ Whatever ” “ Seems like he has a fear ” Damien chuckled as soon as Carmel let go and the bloodlust vanished completely. “ Who is this lesser one ??” Carmel said as she turned to Damien with her cheerful smile completely absent from her beautiful face. “ Damien Klaus of the Ember Den” Damien replied with an air of pride as he expected her to recognize his pack name at least.

He's such a fan of him. Switching sides, aren't you? I just want to help you with your confusion. "Fine," I finally agreed even though it sounded like a dismissal. "Let's dance and get over with it." A crook smile plastered on Demitri's face. However, even with the smile, his face looked hard as ever like some sort of granite in its finest. And those eyes of his. Two pools of darkness waiting for someone to be drowned into it. He's like a walking tragedy, a storm that could destroy anything if he wants.

The corridor lights buzzed overhead like trapped insects, throwing harsh white pools across the concrete floor. Damien stood motionless, black jacket still damp from the rain, cap pulled low. His eyes—tired, shadowed, but burning with that same intense green Marc remembered from college—locked on him and refused to let go. No anger. Just raw, unguarded need. “I flew in this morning,” Damien said quietly. “Watched from the family stand. Section was empty. No one knows I’m here.”

“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.”