Older Damian Wayne Novels & Stories

He carried no laptop, no files, just himself. And somehow, that was enough. “Ms. Whitmore,” he greeted with a smooth nod. “Mr. Adams.” Ryan stiffened. “You know my name.” Damian smiled slightly. “I make it a habit to know the names of those who protect people I’m interested in.” Ryan’s eyes widened. “Interested? In what sense?” Damian looked at Aria. “In the business sense,” he said with a calm that didn’t fool anyone. Ryan reluctantly sat. Damian pulled out a chair opposite Aria and sat down. “I assume you’ve heard by now. I own Blackwood Holdings.”

“No more shadows between us.” He inserted the drive. The first file opened—a grainy video from years ago. A warehouse much like the one Crowe had used as a hideout. Jacob Cross, Damien’s brother, arguing heatedly with a younger Damien. Their voices were muffled but the anger was clear. “You’re going too far, Damien! People are going to die because of these deals!” Jacob shouted. Damien’s younger self looked cold, calculating. “Stay out of it, Jacob. This is how we survive.”

“You’ve been carrying your own pain in silence since your sire. Talk to us.” Damien stared at the opposite wall for a long moment, crimson eyes distant. The elegant, cold vampire rarely showed vulnerability. But after watching Kael shatter and Serena burn her mother-figure twice, something inside him cracked. “I wasn’t always like this,” he said quietly. Damien’s Story “I was turned in 1897. London. I was twenty-four, the youngest son of a powerful aristocratic family. My father wanted me to join the military. My mother wanted me in politics. I wanted neither. I wanted freedom.”

Wayne bows deeply and retreats, the door clicking shut behind him. Damian stands alone for a moment, the plan solidifying in his mind. He strips efficiently, shedding his clothes until his skin is bare to the air. His cock hangs heavy between his thighs, already thickening with the anticipation of the hunt. He pulls a silk robe from the wardrobe, sliding the smooth fabric over his broad shoulders and tying it loosely at the waist. It hides nothing, the slit gaping open to reveal his muscular legs and the shadow of his manhood. He does not believe there is an omega alive who can resist him when he decides to make a move, and he intends to prove it tonight.

He asks while introducing himself. Beta Damian is a little on the short side for a werewolf of rank. He’s about 6ft, has sandy blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. He’s well-built and has tattooed sleeves. He has a well-maintained beard, almost short enough to only be called stubble. It works for him.

But Damon just smiled, his eyes glinting with ruthlessness. "I'm afraid it's not negotiable, Mr. Kendrick," he said. "Either you agree to my terms, or we walk away." Kendrick's face paled, but he nodded, his voice barely above a whisper. "Okay, deal." Damon smiled, feeling a rush of triumph. He stood up, his eyes never leaving Kendrick's face. "Welcome to the team, Mr. Kendrick," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'm sure we'll have a very... profitable relationship."

He had been on house arrest, something Easton had suggested. “You want to join us?” Riker asked, looking at me for reassurance. I once wanted to kill Damian. But he had proved himself. Kane too. Kane had continued to stay by Damian’s side and I knew it was hard for the both of them. It was a bit of a shame actually. Damian had trained to become a Beta and now was working at Cyrus’ farm. All that training going to waste. “Yeah, Damian. Invite Kane too. It’s a f-, freaking man’s weekend.” Cyrus said, carefully checking if any of the kids had heard him almost curse.

“Don’t get sentimental on me, Blackwood. I might start to think you like having me around.” Before Ethan could respond, a frantic voice crackled over the comms. **** Damian had sworn to himself, to anyone who bothered listening, that he wasn’t going to help. He’d said it loudly enough for half the warriors to hear: “I’m only here to watch the Almighty Alpha Blackwood burn the world down. I'm not here to fight.” And yet…Here he was doing the unthinkable. He moved with the quiet precision of someone who has spent his life pretending not to care. Slipping away from the training grounds, he made a single call through one of his many shadow channels, informants and trackers he never publicly ackn

I asked in annoyance. “His name is Damian Zade. Canadian origins. Not married, no children, gay judging by the intimate photos we saw of him kissing another man or men actually. His younger brother is named Daniel, he is his right hand man. We couldn’t find any addresses though. Only pictures of them” he said as he dropped two photos on the table in front of us. We all leaned closer to take a look at them. Their names were written on the side of their photos. Damian was apparently in his forties.

But then, his parents died when there was an attack from the Old Council that was led by the old man who lived in the cottage in the neutral territory. The old man was Luna Marina’s grandfather. Damien unlocked the door before he went inside the room. He put the keys on the counter before he made his way to the kitchen to drink some water. The frappe was good and all but it was too sweet for his taste. Damien needed to cleanse it with some water before he made his way to the couch to watch some shows before his comic show tonight.