Archangel Michael Sword Tattoo Novels & Stories

“I feel like these tattoos have meanings… do they?” I looked at him while expecting an answer. “Dante Adriano Sol Di Angelo.” He uttered his name slowly. He was stroking his fingers while describing its meanings. “These two are angel wings. Di Angelo. My uncle used to call me Sol. He said the nickname suited me since I will be the head of the family in the future. It means sun. I assume you know how the sun works in the universe.” He jokes.

I told him gripping tighter. We stopped in front of the huge fire eating up the trees covering the large tract. The fire bringing such a huge distraction looked like it’s speaking death to anyone who’s gonna run though it but I can’t feel it’s heat. Angelo walked in it like a god of fire. It doesn’t even touch his skin as he calmly walked on it. He stopped to look at me, offering his hand. The fire’s light made Angelo look different. It is reflected to his eyes making it look like burning too.

Andrews replied seeing the guard was getting closer to him. "What kind of duties?" asked the guard holding a gun in his hands. "Checking the cars," Andrews replied facing the guard. "Okay, I am coming with you," the guard said and Andrews just nodded. Andrews walked towards the garage and opened it. The guard walked behind Andrews with his gun. Andrews looked straight ahead and knew where he needed to go but he first needed to get rid of the guard behind him. Andrews scanned the room and opened the door of my car. The guard got closer to also look inside the car but received a big hit from Andrews's elbow. The guard's nose was fractured and Andrews landed another heavy punch to his neck befo

"What could that be? Amelia asked shivering. "The question is who could that be " Eric replied quiet unmoved by the gun shots. "It could be Derek, Samantos, Anna or anybody ". He took the fork and knife. He held the full chicken on one of the trays with the fork and cut it with the knife. He picked it with the knife into his mouth savoring every taste. "God please forgive me, holy Mart take control. Angel Micheal, son of God. I mean Angel Gabriel, the son of God, oh my fucking God, someone should just take control ". She was breathing heavily as she said the prayers.

We were joined soon by Anthonier and Hilra who also appeared surprised at the sight. But while Xialara tried to check for a pulse in her neck and base of her thumb. Something else caught my eye. The ruby colored gem at the hilt of the sword was now a clear diamond. No sign of red. I picked it up by its blade and examined it under the moonlight to check for any cracks or possible leakages. There were none. The red color had just vanished. My blood was gone.

And apparently, he knew how to do a tattoo with ashes in the ink. Like the other veterans from his pack that had gone, he was a little surprised to find out that ashes from Duke and Rory were in their tattoos. And now she was getting Marley done the same way. Celeste was wearing a halter top that showed off her back piece. The Silver Lake Pack Crest was on her right shoulder blade, the Marine Corps Pack Crest in the center and she had already talked to the artist about putting his Crest on the left. Beneath that were Angel wings with a silver and black wolf between them. He assumed this was in tribute to Angel.

The icy blast would’ve made anyone else recoil, but Dante stood there, solid and unmoving, like he was made of stone. His back was a canvas of ink, just like his front. The artwork was nothing short of breathtaking. Spanning across his entire back was a massive, detailed tattoo—an angel, powerful and divine, standing within the ruins of an ancient temple. The wings spread wide across his shoulder blades, reaching toward his arms, while crumbling pillars surrounded the figure in dramatic grayscale contrast. It wasn’t just a tattoo; it was a story, a testament, a work of devotion etched forever into his flesh. It was absolutely beautiful—mesmerizing, even.

That was when I noticed the tattoos. His back was adorned with an intricate design of large black wings, streaked with delicate gold traces that shimmered faintly in the low light. The wings spanned across his shoulders and down his back, a masterpiece that was both beautiful and intimidating. They exuded a silent warning, a "do not mess with me" aura that fit him perfectly. Yet, despite their commanding presence, I felt no fear. This was Alessandro. The man who had carried me, who had stood by me even when I pushed him away. He wasn’t a threat—he was my protector.

- Colby says, leaving and closing the door. Angel sighs. He was unwilling to get up and get dressed. Perhaps a clash of cultures was what would decide his destiny. He wears white jeans with several rips, a belt from which several chains come out, a white and extra tight T with a design of two boys in a very romantic position, and he wears his white sneakers and holds his hair in a disheveled bun and leaves several loose ends that fall to the side of his face. He put on his ring and chose a bracelet made of stones in the color of the rainbow. In his ears, he puts three diamonds, one in the right ear and two in the left. He puts on blue navy eyeliner, which makes his beautiful eyes look even p

Werewolves were able to heal themselves pretty quickly and rogues were not an exception. The gate was unlocked so we stepped inside. I studied the captive's face, trying to jog my memory. Despite his weary appearance, he looked familiar. I was sure that I had seen that freckled face somewhere. I kept wondering if he was in any way related to Michael because that was who I suspected the most. I was thinking about a place I might have seen him when I saw a tattoo on his shoulder. It was a moon and a sword - the one which Michael's most loyal warriors were awarded.