Novel & Cerita Damien Bloodmarch

Everything in me wants to hurtle after Willow and drag her back to safety, but I force myself to stay here. “It shouldn’t be much of a challenge,” a young wolf next to me says. “I’m sure she’ll be okay.” I look at the unknown man. “Who are you?” “Damien Harris. I’m Alpha Clive Harris of the Blood Moon pack's son.” I don’t know a Blood Moon pack or an Alpha Harris, but judging by his accent, Damien’s not from around here. “Where are you from?” “Texas.” “Ah. Well…welcome I guess.”

The Blood Moon night had finally arrived. Crimson light bathed the land, turning everything into a battlefield of shadows and blood. Damian emerged from his locked room at last. He was a mere skeleton of his former self, his face drained of all color, his steps unsteady. Slowly, he made his way to my home. For the last time, he stood at my door. This time, there were no pleas. He simply called my name, quietly, desperately. I opened the door.

"I mean of last night, I just remember the outline of the memory but not the details. Those are cleared from my mind." "Did you like what you saw?" Damien replied. "No, I mean not like I saw anything just like I said. So I'm not implying that's its anything, it's just that I dont remember as my vision was blurry and nothing was clear." Damien's hand slowly rose and he rested it on her face, and Raven's breath hitched. She was attracted to him and his hand on her face made her feel warm all over. "Raven?" "Yes?" her voice quivered. She cringed inwards, why couldn't she control herself?

“You can ask. I might not answer.” I swallowed hard, staring at the scar that ran across his collarbone. “Why do you hate my blood so much? I don’t even know what that means. I’m just me. I bake bread. I don’t have some big family secret. My parents died when I was eight. There was a fire. That’s all I remember.” Damien went quiet for a long moment. His jaw tightened and I felt the muscles in his arm flex like he was fighting something inside himself. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and rough, like the words hurt coming out.

"The only vampire side in this pack belongs to Damien." My heart stopped. "What do you mean by that?" I asked slowly, my voice barely above a whisper. Scarlett rolled her eyes as if I was asking something obvious. "Damien is a hybrid, duh. He has both vampire and werewolf blood. That makes him one of the most dangerous creatures on this planet. No one can mess with him." My breath hitched. My mind went blank. Damien… a hybrid?

I bent slightly, reaching for the hem of my shirt, when the tent flap whipped open and Damien walked in. Not the person I wanted to see right now but I was going to see him later. Damien looked like hell, he was literally covered in blood and a few but deep bite marks. I frowned, locking eyes with him. He looked like he was seconds away from exploding and I wasn't in the mood for that. “Can I help you?” I frowned. “What the hell was that?” he finally asked. I blinked, confused. “What?” “That war,” he said. “What the hell was that?”

I say. "For what she expended." Maret chooses her words carefully. Sets them down like objects she is placing on a surface she isn't sure will hold them. "What she carries, what was revealed tonight, it isn't something we have a reference for. Not in living memory. The Moonblood hasn't manifested fully in generations." She pauses. "She used a significant portion of it in a very short time. The shift. The fight. And then what she did for you." She says that last part without inflection.

Because of it, they were able to spot the real Damien. He was already racing along the alley when Kat and Calix got off the set of stairs. The area behind the building was dark and deserted apart from a couple of cars and overflowing trash bins. The concrete was slick with summer rain, but Kat didn't put on her heels. She just followed as Calix pursued Damien, keeping her eyes trained on his bright blue suit, which was sporting a strange dark stain at the back. . . . Was that blood? Damien passed a lamppost, and even though it was quick, Kat managed to see that there was a clear tear in his jacket, right between his shoulders, a straight line at the back of his neck.

Then another two. Damien couldn’t take it anymore, his blood-soaked huge body fell on the ground. Damien was staggering and trying his best to stand up. The only thought he had at that moment was, ‘I have to reach Selene at any cost or we will never be able to awaken King Vlad and without his help saving our kingdom is impossible. No. No. I can’t die like this. Not before I am done saving Xander.” He was even at that moment worried about Xander when he was swimming in the pool of blood. Slowly his eyes started to close. His wounds were from silver blades so no way it was going to heal easily. Damien’s vision started to become blurry. When his inner wolf was constantly shouting and asking him

Damien showing up there, unannounced, frantic—it gnawed at me, a puzzle I couldn’t leave unsolved. I knew Damien, knew the fire in his eyes, the hate he carried for me and mine, the Moonbloods. We were the most powerful of the nine aristocrat families in New Orleans, our name a blade in the werewolf clans, and he despised us for it—despised me most of all. I’d made him that way, sixteen years ago, when I’d turned his world to ash.