Monster Prom Damien Novels & Stories

And they were staring straight at me, their eerie presence thick with menace, ready to lunge and strike without mercy. My heart pounded as I prepared to summon my power, but before I could react, a brilliant white flame erupted around me. It spread in a wide, protective circle, crackling with energy as it incinerated the dark figures that dared to come too close. Their screeches echoed through the void before fading into silence. I exhaled sharply, turning to the only person who could have conjured such flames. “Damien.” He stood a few feet away, his gaze locked onto mine. Despite his usual composed demeanor, there was something distant in his expression, as if he were only half-present in t

Liam interrupted, and Damian's gaze shifted towards Liam again, who stood by my side with a self-satisfied smirk, and a knot formed in my stomach. At this point, I was getting nervous, and I could feel beads of sweat forming on the upper side of my head from this sudden and unexpected confrontation. The air thickened with an unspoken history, and I braced myself for the storm that seemed imminent. "Anyway, you don't have to answer that, Ruby," Liam said, noticing my speechlessness. "Meet Damian, an old acquaintance who was once under my care back when we were training to become alphas at the werewolf academy. He was young and calm, but after he lost Ava, he lost it and changed into a monster

Not Marcus or the others. Damien himself. He stepped out from behind a tree, his black wolf form magnificent in the moonlight. His yellow eyes locked onto mine. "Shift," he commanded through the mind link

And Damian… Damian is a Lycan blooded Alpha. Even if I tried to fight, I wouldn’t last one second. But still, my eyes flick toward the heavy lamp. The corner table. The chair leg. I run through every weapon I could use—every opening I might find. But the answers are all the same. He’s stronger and he will win. The mattress creaks as I sit, bones stiff with dread. I stare at the floor, the lingerie clinging to my damp skin, praying for some miracle, some divine intervention—

The rhythmic motion of Damien’s hand beneath the desk matched the steady moans coming from his computer speakers. He leaned back in his leather chair, eyes locked on the screen in front of him. Lux Monroe. She was on all fours, a man behind her, gripping her hair, thrusting deep and hard. “Fuck,” Damien moaned, stroking himself faster. Her body was perfection—curves that could drive a man insane, eyes that begged and defied all at once. He’d been watching her videos for years—hell, he knew the exact moment new ones dropped. And this one? It was the most recent.

Damian walked straight toward them. “Damian—wait!” Eli started to rise. Damian didn’t turn. “Eli. Trust me.” His voice carried through the corridor—deep, calm, and lethal. Eli froze. The drones opened fire. And Damian moved like a storm unleashed. He wasn’t evading the shots—not exactly. He anticipated them, weaving between the bursts of plasma, striking the drones with precision and violence. A swift kick shattered one; he spun and slammed another into the floor, crushing its metal shell under his boot. Sparks rained around him, lighting his silhouette in flashes of electric blue.

Reiner stepped back and bowed respectfully. "Boss." Crain strained his neck to look at the newcomer. Despite his battered state, he could tell from the way the guards treated him that this man was incredibly powerful. Damien walked over and squatted down in front of Crain, looking him dead in the eye with a calm, dangerous gaze. "And who the hell are you?" Crain demanded, his voice shaking. Damien looked right back at him with an icy stare. "I'm not a public figure, so you probably haven't heard of me. I'm Damien Blackwood. But some people call me the Living Yama."

You Rejected Me, Remember? The front door blew open. Rain swept into the entry hall in a cold silver sheet. Beyond the porch, the yard was full of eyes. Silver eyes. Dozens of them. Watching from between the black pines, from the edge of the broken stone path, from the shadows beneath the old oak tree. Rogues. Or whatever the hell they were. Half-wolf. Half-man. Half-nightmare. Math had stopped mattering. Damien moved down the stairs with lethal calm, one hand braced against his bleeding side, the other already shifting into claws.

Why the hell did I think this was a good idea? I thought of the photo of my dad’s corpse—pale, drained, abandoned in a filthy alley. “What am I?” Damien pressed. “A monster. Like all of your kind.” Damien laughed, but his eyes stayed cold. “Petty humans,” he muttered, his voice thick with contempt. “I will marry your mother. And there’s nothing a brat like you can do about it. Now—get out.” My legs moved on instinct. Only once I’d exited the building entirely did I finally exhale. Damn that devil.

His voice was low, rough, like gravel under boots. I closed the greenhouse door behind me and locked it. “Shut up.” Damien set down his tools and straightened to his full height. God, he was big. Broad shoulders, powerful chest dusted with dark hair, abs glistening with sweat that trailed down into the waistband of his low-slung work jeans. Dirt streaked his forearms and chest. He looked like sin itself. I crossed the space between us in three strides and shoved him back against the wooden workbench. “You think you can just fuck me behind a shed and walk away like nothing happened?”