How Old Is Damon On Vampire Diaries Novels & Stories

Nancy clicked some links that prompted her to another tab, and only then a second after, a list of information revealed itself. I skimmed through the detailed column about Damon, reading that everything he told me was right. Though, Davien’s true identity was never disclosed. Regardless, I was able to obtain some images that were attached showing Davien rather than Damon. Only then I realized that Damon was twelve years older than me. Like how the hell was that possible? He’s thirty-eight, while I am twenty-six. But that thought flew out into the window when a familiar name catches my eye. “Shit!” I hissed, sliding my finger on the touchpad to accentuate the link associated with the name. It

I said mostly to myself. Damien came and sat on the bed in front of me with a proud grin, “You’re amazing, Abby,” he said as he put a hand on my knee, his eyes had returned to their crystal clear blue, filled with adoration. “How long have you known me, Damien?” “About nineteen years,” he responded. I became confused, “I’m only eighteen though,” he chuckled.

She can be very stubborn that woman. They got Tilly a few years after we got Alec, so she is 13 now and then Damon again after a couple of years, which makes him 11. When we asked if they were getting more, she laughed and said they didn’t need to with the way all others were spitting out babies.

He is already very upset about whatever she did in the past, not to mention that he still blames her for her father's accident. "How old is she?" He asked. "Twenty three!" He answered. Damon closed eyes and shook his head. "Let's go for dinner, Mr. Madhan... I am hungry!" He smirked. Madhan frowned at him. "You are not angry anymore?" Damon turned around and smiled at him. "Have you seen a crying child?" Madhan looked at him confused but nodded. "What do you do when you want to stop him?" Damon asked mischievously.

“That fucking lowlife must’ve been pregnant with someone else’s child. There’s no way that brat is Damon’s.” A pause. Then his voice came through the line, low and cutting. “You’re doubting my ability to get information?” the mystery man said, almost amused. “It’s a fact. The boy is nine years old — exactly the same age as the years since Damon and Sadie split. You can connect the dots, Bella.” My mouth went dry. For a moment, the room felt smaller, the air heavier—like it was closing in on me. Nine years. It’s been that long.

★★★ BLUE MOON PACK ★★★ Damon’s mother, Light, was basking in the peaceful moment as she watched over the pup. He was a sweet little boy, no more than three years old, his tiny body curled up in sleep, his breathing soft and rhythmic. Light’s once troubled eyes, now calmer and filled with a nurturing warmth, softened as she brushed a strand of hair from the pup’s forehead. This child, whom Damon had taken under his wing, had become a light in their lives—a reminder of innocence amidst the darkness they often faced.

Raven sat at the end of the table, she looked at the head of the table and there he was the man from last night. That's when Raven realized that all the staff had put on make-up and perfume to impress him and their hair was nicely done. Yet she Raven on the other hand was dirty from the ingredients and cooking. She was sweating and her hair was in a messy ponytail. She snapped out of it and waited for the dinner to begin, she was proud of the food that she had made. "Evening, as some of you know and some of you don't, my name is Damien. I'm twenty-seven years old and I am the owner of this place."

I wonder what he is talking about. “For everyone's sake, I hope you are right." Damien spoke with something in his voice that I couldn't figure out. Sadness maybe? “How old are you?” Damien asked while he reached over to move my hair out of the way so he could, I’m assuming, look at something. “I just turned 18 today.” Talking made my jaw burn hot with pain. His touch slightly soothed it. There was a long pause before the tension in the air changed to confusion. "Uh, Jack?" Damien asked, his voice a mix of confusion and worry.

) and back up to my face. My pulse kicked hard. Damon was forty-one, ten years older than me, and looked every bit of it in the best way possible — tall, broad-shouldered, dark hair with a touch of silver at the temples, sharp jaw, and those intense hazel eyes that always seemed to see too much. He was wearing a black button-down with the sleeves rolled up, revealing corded forearms and an expensive watch. Architect. Successful. The responsible older brother who had quietly disapproved of Marcus’s choices for years.

The rest of join in the howling, then laugh hysterically. Oh gosh!!! I glance at Damon who's scowling at them. Well, he's not amused. At other times, I might find it funny, but after what happened with Bane tonight, my patience is stretched thin. Stupid drunk boys. Damon is very quiet on the drive home. He seems to be deep in thought. I wonder if he's worried about not meeting his mate yet. He really doesn't have many reasons to be worried, he's still very young. He's just a few months older than I am. I know this because I was invited to his birthday party a few months back. He's a nice guy. I hope he'll meet his mate soon.