Damon Salvatore Pictures Novels & Stories

He smiles, “I don’t want to scare you off, Alice. I just wanted to convince you that I was there, I was the one that saved you and not the other way around. I would never hurt—“ I cut him off, “—it’s okay. I understand and I’m not scared. I just want to know more,” “Of course. You can ask me anything and I’ll be truthful,” “How old are you, Damon?” Damon is no way more than his early 30s. The way he carries himself, the way he dresses and the way he speaks, it wouldn’t cause any suspicion. However, there is just something in his gaze. As if he has been through years or even centuries as the world folds into a different era. He moves slower, he takes his time in the words he speaks. I am conf

It's telling me that there is something unusual about the auras these men emit. “ Yeah, it's her,” Santino voice is flat. He fixes me with a bored look. “ She must be brave if she thinks she can murder a dragon with a fork.” The rugged one laughs, and my eyes shoot back to him. He putts a large cigar to his lips, he takes a drag and the tip of glows orange as a thin plume of smock rises. He removes the cigar from his lips and puffs out some smock. The act makes him look so fucking sexy in all his muscle glory standing there.

“ Do you think I’m excited about all these? Why not stop and think? Will your mom ever want such a union between you and that messed up fellow? Alessia, if I had my way, Salvatore's head will be hanging at the entrance of your father’s mansion. Speaking of Salvatore, was he here in the hall just taking his new pet in? What does he even look like? I could have done a quick search of him, but I was too occupied with sulking and crying myself to sleep. Three different cakes of foundation powder was barely enough to hide my black bags and how horrible my pretty gray eyes looked at the moment.

"What are you looking at, Reina?" Damon’s voice sliced through the silence. I spun around, the frame trembling in my hands. He had stripped off his shirt, his broad, scarred chest exposed in the dim light of the suite. He looked powerful, untamed, and suddenly very, very dangerous. But I didn’t have time to think about all that. "Do you know Zayne?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper as I held the photo out like a shield. "The boy in this picture... Is it Zayne?"

“Don’t worry, pay it in. I’m raising a daughter you know.” Damien said. “Okay, and before I forget, I need you to look for someone for me. She goes by the name Jenna Marbles. She is involved in this case.” He dropped a picture of Jenna. Diablo wrote down the name then stared at it for a while. Jenna Marbles sounded familiar to him in some way. He didn’t know if it was the Marbles or the Jenna. He raised a brow. “I feel like I already know this person. Any other information you can leave?”

(Serena) Damon’s shouts still vibrate in the air. Savannah’s shrill sobs riding the edge of hysteria. My my, how the tables turn. I don’t smile but I want to. But all I can see is the man Damon floored. His jaw grotesquely swollen, blood streaking his mouth and chin. The side of his face is a mess and his eye is already blooming from the impact on his jaw. Everyone’s eyes are locked on Savannah and Nico, drinking in the scandal like it’s wine.

A sleek, armored black SUV pulled up to the curb, its tinted windows rolling down with a smooth, mechanical hiss. Damon. He sat in the plush leather interior, completely dry, a cigarette resting between his lips. He looked out at my pathetic, rain-drenched form, his gaze raking over the ridiculous pink tulle and the mud staining my knees. A slow, dark smirk pulled at the corner of his lips. He didn't look pitying. He looked amused.

He wasn’t even halfway through when Damian suddenly spoke. “Salvo.” The driver paused. Damian had already pulled out his phone. He scrolled quickly before holding the screen in front of the man. “Was it this man?” The driver looked closely. Then nodded immediately. “Yes.” “That’s him.” The name meant nothing to me. So I turned to Damian. “Who is Salvo?” Damian’s expression hardened slightly. “One of Victor’s men.” Silence filled the small store. For a moment, none of us spoke. Then I thanked the men for their time and walked back to the car.

Damon mumbled under his breath and turned to the next picture, one of himself. "Jonathan's here. Help me sell this. I want this bad." Matt patted his back and walked off, giving the art dealer a warm welcome. "What the hell?" Damon whispered as memories rushed across his mind. Sickness swelled in his stomach, and chill bumps broke out across his skin. He pressed his fingers to his lips, remembering the day the picture was taken. It was the day after he caught his mother fucking around on his dad. The worst moments of his life were captured in the pain Matt had painted so perfectly in his eyes.

Others hadn’t. Salvatore raised his hand and pointed. “Damon, step forward.” Gasps filled the room. Damon was a tall young man with wide shoulders and clear eyes. He looked shocked. “M-me?” Damon asked. “Yes,” Salvatore said. “You’ve worked hard. You’ve been loyal. And you’ve shown me that you care about this pack.” Damon slowly walked forward. He looked nervous. “I don’t know if I deserve this,” Damon said softly. “You do,” Salvatore replied. “And if anyone wants to challenge it, speak now.”