Novel & Cerita Damien Pip

" I was speechless. Who are you Katerina? I asked myself, repeating the same question someone asked me sometime ago. Was I still hallucinating or was I dead and in the spirit world already? This was all too much for me to comprehend. I could only make sure not to forget one thing, even if I forget everything else. And that's the name of the bastard that actually killed my parents, even if he had sent killers to do it on his behalf. Damien. Damien of the Full Moon pack. Oh, how dearly I will make him pay... "Moreover, it wasn't your time to die, it just wasn't your time my dear."

He lingered there for a moment, savoring the contact, before his teeth gently closed around my skin once again. Damien leaned back slightly, eyes roaming over me as if admiring what he’d done. His lips curved into a slow, satisfied smirk before they finally lifted to meet mine. The way I looked at him seemed to stir something dark and wild inside him. He dragged a hand through his hair, exhaling roughly. “Fuck… You make me crazy, Piper.” He said my name like it was both a prayer and a punishment, a blessing he never should have been allowed to touch, and a burden he’d carry without hesitation if it meant having me.

Damien’s sharp eyes scanned the crowd, and then they landed on the familiar figure. A faint smile appeared on his face as he recognized Mr. Parker, then without hesitation, he walked toward him. "Greetings, sir," he said politely, lowering himself into the seat beside him. Mr. Parker raised a brow, surprised at the confidence in Damien’s tone. "Oh? And who might you be?" "I’m Damien," he introduced himself smoothly. Mr. Parker chuckled. "You’ve got a fine name, kid. And I indeed love your confidence."

My brain understood that Shane hadn’t offended me, but my body didn’t. The moment I was in, I made sure the coast was clear before going into Damien’s study. Of course, it was locked but I started picking locks at twelve, so it was easy to get in. I went through the pile of documents on his table, careful not to touch anything or shift anything from where they were placed. Nothing resembled a letter. Just work documents. I eyed his safe at the end of the room and went to it. What could be his password? Damien was cold but he was sentimental on the inside so the first combination I tried was Marcus’ birthday and it clicked open immediately.

"I'm not sure I've earned the title of Father given what you're about to hear." "Tell me about your past." David's pen was poised above his notebook. "Before you came to Bellmare, before you became a priest, who were you?" Damien took a breath and I squeezed his hand, silently reminding him I was there, that whatever he said I wasn't going anywhere. "I was a criminal. I worked for an organization that specialized in intimidation and violence, doing whatever my boss needed done without asking questions about morality or consequences." "What kind of violence?" David's expression remained neutral but I saw him write something quickly.

What could he have done that was so bad to land himself in these contracts? "Jarvis, tell me everything you can about my newly assigned contract." I asked. "Damien, who goes by only Damien and doesn't entertain a surname, was born Human in 1834. He was turned by an unknown Vampire at the young age of 28. The reason why is unknown. He has no family, no lineage, no heir. He lives currently in Maine, but originated in England. He owns Edge Enterprises, which specializes in programming for artificial intelligence. His programs are widely used in a variety of applications, including those utilized by The Academy. I was created by Damien as well. Much else about him is unknown, he seems to be a ve

“You’ve been carrying your own pain in silence since your sire. Talk to us.” Damien stared at the opposite wall for a long moment, crimson eyes distant. The elegant, cold vampire rarely showed vulnerability. But after watching Kael shatter and Serena burn her mother-figure twice, something inside him cracked. “I wasn’t always like this,” he said quietly. Damien’s Story “I was turned in 1897. London. I was twenty-four, the youngest son of a powerful aristocratic family. My father wanted me to join the military. My mother wanted me in politics. I wanted neither. I wanted freedom.”

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.

I've never written songs in my entire life. "You're really different. Different from the Paige I think I knew. I should have have the honor of introducting myself again..." "You're crazy!"I spat, perplexed. "I know."He laughed, extended his hand for a shake. "Hi, I'm Damien Smith, a songwriter."He winked. "So..."I ignored his hand. "If may ask without sounding rude, who are you?" "Are you...high on something?" "I don't drink. I don't take drugs. Ma'am I'm just seventeen."

“-like yourself. You're young, harmless, and easily taken advantage of. You stink of mortality. Underworlders won't be able to resist. I, however, exude power-” “-ful odors.” Damien burst out laughing at my interjection. “I exude power, you wretch.” “The stench of death? Is that why you have no friends? Because you smell like roadkill?” “You're insufferable,” he said. “At least I'm not the root of all suffering.” “I think you two might need counselin',” Damien observed.