Monster Prom Damien Novels & Stories

“I see.” A small smirk graced Damien’s face and he cleared his throat. “I’d come to the police station later, sir. Right now, I have to see my mother. She hasn’t fully recovered from the trauma of being kidnapped.” A concerned look appeared on the policeman’s face and he waved his hands. “Don’t worry about coming to the station, Sir Damien. This man was drunk driving and also threatened you. It’s as clear as daylight what must be done.” “Thank you. I’d hurry off now.” Damien gave a small bow and drove off. An expressionless face replaced the smirk he had on before. “I should stop doing this.” He told himself.

Damian jumped up, pointed at me, and said, "Uma! There's a woman in your closet!" Uma knocked Damian's head and said, "Be quiet! Knucklehead! Do you want those soldiers to come back?!" "Ouch! It hurts!" Damian covered his crewcut head and dodged. He was surprisingly agile. Is he a boxing fighter? I thought to myself. Uma stroked Damian's head and said, "Don't act like a spoiled child to me. You've got punched in the fight club all the time." Damian turned his head toward me and said, "My name is Damian Pedersen and I'm Milo's cousin. Are you the lady who attacked Alpha Dire?"

"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”

On cue, Damian turned and murmured something then his almost inaudible voice added, "Take him past the waters of Winterberg, to the highland by way to the woods. Miles out from the heart of the hamlet square, near the ledge of the grassland hills. I am waiting, my love. Follow this young boy." Both Diana and Tommy glanced at each other in complete bewilderment. They both gaped and looked back at Damian who seemed to recover to his trance-like state and panicked when he saw his hand with a massive flame coating it. "Oh, help! Fire! Fire!" Diana went to his side and touched his shoulder. "It's alright Damian. Breathe in and out. Stay focused. The fire wasn't hurting anyone. Inhale, exhale." T

This chamber's heavy door creaked open. Damien. Even in the half-light, his presence filled the room like smoke. Broad shoulders, raven-black hair falling into his storm-grey eyes, a mouth set in the kind of ruthless line that once made me weak… now it only made me burn. His aura pressed against me, his dominance slamming into my wolf like a whip. “You look fragile,” he drawled, stepping closer. “Not quite the image of the Luna this pack needs.” I refused to answer. Silence was my only weapon left.

I nodded slowly; I took him over to his bike; I tossed him onto his bike; I raised my hand; my claws sparkled in the moonlight; I slowly dragged my claws across the metal gas tank of his bike. SCREEEEEEECH. The sound was agonizing; the paint peeled; the grooves cut deep into the steel of his bike. His bike fell down and the fuel started to leak. Henrique winced; he closed his eyes; he thought I was cutting through his skin. “Are you sure about that?” I asked; my hand raised high; my claws pointed at his chest. “I could make this last much longer.” He looked at my claws; then into my eyes; he didn’t see any mercy; he saw the demon.

Just breathing — both of them too loud in the small space — and the sound of rain drumming harder outside, like the sky itself was trying to drown them. Damien shrugged off his wet jacket, hung it on the back of the single chair. Underneath: dark training top clinging to his shoulders from the damp, sleeves pushed up to reveal forearms corded with muscle. He looked exhausted — shadows under his eyes deeper than Marc remembered, jaw unshaven, hair plastered to his forehead. “I told the staff I was scouting,” Damien said quietly. “They bought it.” “You’re risking everything.” Marc crossed his arms, back against the wall — trying to keep distance, failing. “If anyone sees you—”

Damien looked straight into the corner of the room where the camera probably was. “Whoever you are,” he said loudly, voice cold and angry, “you picked the wrong people to fuck with. I’m coming for you. And when I find you, you’re going to wish you never laid eyes on us.” He turned back to Kai and pulled him close again. “We’re going to be okay,” he whispered. “I promise.” But his hands were shaking. And for the first time, Kai wasn’t sure if that promise was one he could keep.

He holds the arm in a vice grip, shaking it like a ragdoll, refusing to release him for several long, agonizing seconds. Finally, Damien throws him aside like worthless trash. He spits blood onto the ground, his chest heaving. There is no mercy in his eyes, only a promise of endless pain. "You will beg for death long before I allow it," Damien says, his voice dropping into a deadly whisper. "I will uncover the truth. And when I find the monster who dared touch my brother through you... they will pray the Moon Goddess never created them. As for you..." He leans closer, his breath hot against Aiden’s ear. "You will regret the day you ever laid a hand on Harris."

And to kill his brother is celebrate Tristan too. Damien and the guys went to corner to sit waiting for the perfect time to strike. They haven't sit for two minutes when a naked slut sat on Damien's laps, and he scrutinized her body thoroughly with his eyes. Clean-shaven pu$$y, wide @ss, big breasts and fake plastic surgery face which is so obvious judging by her nose and cheekbones. She leaned in trying to kiss his lips, but he lowered his lids before speaking... "You kiss me, I'll snap your neck. Ion kiss sluts"