Novel & Cerita Damon Salvatore Rule

He asked me. “Yes.” I answered. “First promise me something.” He said. “What is it?” I asked. “Promise me you won’t take any drastic decision once you learn the truth.” He pleaded. “But..” “Just promise me.” He said more desperately. “Alright. I promise. Now tell me the truth.” I urged as I braced myself for the worst. “You’re right. I’m not just part of the mafia, I’m a Mafia Don.” ……………………………… Damian stared at her to see if she had any shocked expression or see if she would lash out at him but was surprised to see she still remained calm and collected like she had expected the news.

I spat, “What exactly is your problem?” “My problem? Do you want to know exactly what my problem is? It's you, my problem is fucking you!!!” Damian yelled, “You knew I was drunk and you took advantage of the situation.” “What?” I stood to my feet, “Are you dumb or what? I take advantage of you? You are not all that, Mr. Damian Salvatore; I guess when you drink, you have memory loss, so let me remind you that I didn't approach you, you did, and you even begged me.”

That has been used against me in the past and it didn't make any difference. Damien could sense what Mark was looking for and he decided that even if Elena wanted to call this human a friend, this friend would try to kill him if he thought he needed to. Damien paused for a second, contemplating whether to tell Mark of his ability to survive just about any wound. Yes, I need to make sure Mark doesn't think he can kill me, so he will stop planning on how to do it. Mark, I can heal from any wound. Do you understand that? I am immortal.

I had never been one to back down from a fight, especially when that fight had my pride at stake. “You’re a bold one, I see,” he said,, “but today, I won't punish your insolent curiosity. I will answer you. I am Alpha Adonis Damon, the first of my name and the ruler of the entire Reborn clan.” I nodded, because I had nothing else to say. Judging from how he had introduced himself, it was evident that he took his position very seriously and I was supposed to be impressed. But I was not. I chuckled when he looked disappointed that I did not look moved by his introduction, and his eyes turned darker.

Marcus had talked about him the last few times we had spoken. The Demon Wolf as he was better known. Every few generations an Alpha would be born with him. Usually they became cruel and sadistic, Aamon eventually taking over fully. Hunters were well acquainted with the stories because when a new demon wolf was awakened, it usually meant that the elite hunters were sent to kill them before he could take over. Here I, an elite hunter, staring down the eyes of Aamon who was my mate. Desmond was strong enough to hold him back though. Until now, until I showed up and refused to see him.

“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.”

“Doesn’t matter. Point is, I know what I’m saying.” He studied me, his expression unreadable. The silence dragged, making my skin itch. Finally, he asked, “And what do you get out of this deal?” I swallowed hard. “Control.” His lips curved into something between a smirk and a sneer. “Control. Right.” “I’m not joking, Dominic.” “Neither am I.” He stepped even closer, his chest almost brushing mine. “You don’t get control with me. You’d never get control with me.” My chin lifted on instinct. “We’ll see.”

Damien’s territory marked not because I respected his borders but because men who refused to map emotion alongside geography were usually the first to die surprised. Salvatore stepped closer to the table. “We can move whenever you say.” I studied the city. Lucian still believed he had room to manipulate outcomes if he struck from the side. Sokolov was too consumed by old grievance to understand when he was being redirected. Damien, for all his intelligence, had finally become what I expected any man that attached himself to my sister would become—dangerous, unpredictable, compromised. “We don’t move yet,” I said. Salvatore glanced at the screens, then back at me.

"Aara. Your father died to protect this. Do you want to join him, or do you want to see the world restored?" ​I looked at Damian. In the cold, blue light of the vault, he looked like the man I’d seen in the Roman hostel—broken, bleeding, and yet more powerful than he’d ever been as a King. He gave me a tiny, imperceptible nod. ​Rule 13: Sometimes you have to smudge the ink to save the page. ​"I’ll do it," I said, stepping toward the console. "I’ll release the seal. But only if Damian stays behind the blast-shield."