Damien South Park Novels & Stories

"Who allowed a fuckface like you in here?” The patrons at a few closed tables stopped playing and turned to us. “Mr-” “Don't bother, get the fuck out, don't come back here again” “You can't do that!” mustache man sputtered Damien leaned into his face and wave two fingers “Who the fuck am I?” I see a sting of doubt spread across his features and I want to commend him for not backing away from the large dangerous man who was obviously not his fan glaring down at him “You're Damien Cross”

**** Damien, a young man with jet-black hair and bright blue eyes, sat at his desk and thought about what one of his friends had said. “Are you still happy to date a lot of women without getting married to any of them? Come on. You're already 27th. You should find your mate, someone to join you as an Alpha!” “Shit! Why do I still hear those words in my head!” Damien cried out. His office space felt tight and stifling. The air trapped inside it was no longer a breath of fresh air for his tired mind and soul. Damien was so desperate for peace that he left the office momentarily to get some fresh air outside.

Everything inside me went still. Damien. In Sunderland. A place he had no reason to be. Unless… Unless he was hiding something far bigger than he was willing to admit.

“That was quick.” I sighed, grateful for the distraction. “Because there wasn’t any real training,” I muttered. Kai smirked. “She’s impatient.” Damien let out a soft chuckle. “That doesn’t surprise me.” He turned his focus back to me. “If you’re free now, you should come with me. I want to show you something.” I frowned. “Show me what?” “My workshop.” My frown deepened. “Your workshop?” Kai was the one who answered. “Damien isn’t just an intellectual lycan—he’s a genius. He’s the one who designs most of the warcraft and weapons used in Blackwood and beyond.”

“You’ve never been to a carnival?” Damien shook his head, his grin still intact, though there was a slight hint of amusement in his eyes at my reaction. “No. I was always too busy, I guess. Studies and training to take my father’s place. I never really had the time for stuff like that. But you know, it was pretty fun. I don’t know why I’ve never done it before.”

I’d been working in the east corridor study for twenty minutes when the door opened without a knock. Damien closed it behind him and leaned against the frame. Up close, the smirk was thinner today, sitting on top of something that looked almost like genuine unease. He pushed off the wall and dropped into the chair across from me, sprawling into it the way he occupied every space, like comfort was something he owned. He turned his coffee cup between his palms, and for a moment he just looked at me without the performance. “The D isn’t me,” he said. “So whoever you’ve been mentally convicting, it’s not me.”

"Cornelius isn't built for that. I know, because I’ve watched that park change every person who steps into it. It happened to Eleanor. It happened to you. It will happen to him, and I need to know he has the capacity to receive that kind of innocence without trying to manage it." Damien looked at her, his gaze intense, direct, and completely unmasked. "He sat on that bench for forty minutes," Damien reminded her softly. "He crouched in the dirt. He listened to a four-year-old explain the brachiosaurus hypothesis. And when he left, he used Eli's name." He paused, letting the words sink in. "He isn't the same man who threatened you on cream-colored letterhead. Not entirely. He isn't the man he

* But the universe had other plans. During the morning strategy meeting, a new face sat across the table. **Damien Black** — the sharp, ridiculously handsome VP from their London branch who’d just transferred over. Tall, lean-muscled, with tousled dark hair, piercing green eyes, and a charming smile that screamed “trouble.” He was younger than Rhys, maybe thirty-two, and carried himself with effortless confidence. His eyes kept drifting to Lila throughout the meeting. When it ended, he approached her desk with a smooth grin.

◇NO POV◇ In a room damien is breaking everything out of anger as his precious obsession is going out of his hands looking at his master in that kind of situation the assistant got panicked and asked "master what happened?? why you're looking so angry??" damien replied "how can I be without anger I made her to see how cruel that don is I made her to get scared of him but she got married to him I felt something suspicious like he threatened her so she might got married to him

He looked like your typical boy next door and not one you would see battling for revenge. "Oooh," he grinned. "You're mesmerized, aren't you?" "Fuck off!" I snapped. "Gladly," he chuckled and turned to go. "Move and I'll gladly pummel you to bits." I threatened. "Who the hell are you?" He sighed. "I'm Damian. D for short. Shall I tell you my middle name, where I live, and place of birth?" "I detest talkative. The only thing saving you right now is my lack of a gun." I spat.