Bible Verse Spine Tattoos Novels & Stories

His voice broke the silence, and I froze in my tracks. He turned his head slightly, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “You can touch it. It doesn’t sting.” I hesitated, my fingers twitching at my sides. “Can I?” I asked softly. “Of course,” he replied, his tone calm and inviting. My hand moved almost on its own, reaching out to trace the lines of the tattoo. His skin was warm under my fingertips, and I couldn’t help but marvel at the artistry. But then, my eyes caught something else—a tiny inscription running down his spine vertically, just below the scorpion.

Written in Greek scripture were the words "If I must be owned, at least chain me to someone who will let me fly free." Adrastus took in a sharp breath, his nose flaring, all sense of humor wiped from his face as he looked intensely at her. "What.did.you.say?" And April realized she must have spoken out loud, her brow furrowed in confusion as she thought to herself ' know how to translate Greek scripture?' "The tattoo, on your neck, it says If I must be owned, at least chain me to someone who will let me fly free." Adrastus' pale blue eyes seemed to get swallowed up in a dark black storm as his body trembled, heat pulsing from him like a raging fire.

“Yes what?” “Yes s-sir.” I shivered, my orbs scanning his chest which heaved in lust. Ink covering his body. The type of ink you could trace your fingers on. His tattoos were beautiful and elegant. My eyes latched on a specific tattoo on his collarbone, -- Wings embedded in a thorny rose. And a writing just beneath it which said, -- Alis volat propriis. I wonder what it means? Humming, his darkened greys met mine again. The hand which was on my waist now slowly travelled towards my ass.

“What do you still need princess?” “Et sanguis sanguinem locum ultimi definitoris tenet, quod solum potest conteram vinculum!” I repeated with a serious tone. When I fully captured his attention, I proceeded to remove my dress and the right part of my brassiere. I turned to my side pointing to a small unnoticeable tattoo. “Et sanguis sanguinem locum ultimi definitoris tenet, quod solum potest conteram vinculum!” I chanted for the last time and prayed for some miracle to happen.

Quite ancient like someone carved a spell into him with a blade instead of a needle. It wrapped his left shoulder in jagged black wings that weren’t wings at all. More like a chain linked to a rune. A circle. A slash that looked like a wound. It crawled over his abdomen, following the cut of his V-line, disappearing beneath the waistband of his jeans. But the worst part? His back. I saw it when he turned. A full spine piece. A crown of thorns made of ink, sitting at the base of his neck, like you could run your fingers over it and feel the burn.

Scars crisscrossed his torso, each one a story of violence I wasn't sure I wanted to know. But it was the tattoo over his heart that drew my attention. Dark ink etched into his skin, forming words I couldn't quite make out. I squinted, trying to decipher the script. "Bound by blood, sealed in blood." The words sent a chill down my spine, a stark reminder of the dangerous world I had been thrust into.

He looked at me briefly then back at my hand that was holding onto his. The biggest and clearer of the tattoos was on the back of his palm. It was drawn with dark ink that stood out on his well tanned dark hands. At first it looked like a sun rising in the horizon and glazing over a field with details of how it shines around it in tiny well drawn marks, I soon realized it was the sea the sun was rising on and not heaps in a field. "Solem Orientem Ghe Mari" I called out the foreign words written right under the tattoo of the sun and the sea. It sounded Latin or was it Italian?

He closed his eyes, his jaw slackening as I scrubbed his scalp. A comfortable silence soon settled between us. As I leaned forward to rinse the shampoo from his hair, my eyes caught the tattoo inked across his back and upper arm. The design was bold against his skin, curling like claws and wings. Black flames wrapped around a serpent swallowing its own tail. "What does it mean?" I asked, my fingers lightly brushing the ink. He didn't answer at first. "It's a symbol of resurrection. Power earned through suffering." I traced the outer edge. "You got it before or after everything?"

She could feel the pressure of the symbols around her, the prayers meant to weaken her, the holy walls humming with fear. She lifted her hand and brushed her fingers along one of the engraved verses. It was a plea for deliverance. As she touched it, frost crept along the letters, freezing the gold in a perfect sheen. She whispered, “Deliverance comes from those who save themselves.” The frost spread until the verse cracked, faintly and almost soundlessly. Far above, in the chapel, a candle flickered out.

Mea Dea, my goddess in Latin, despite wanting to spit at him to address me properly, my heart races. “You can call me Queen Aylin,” I force out in a hiss, although his smirk tells me I don’t sound convincing. I break eye contact with him to look him over. He is truly carved to perfection. He’s wearing a tank top, which shows the entire tattoo on his neck. It’s a black and white piece of a phoenix, midflight with its mouth open in a scream, surrounded by fire. The wings extend onto the front and back of his neck in brilliant detail and the fire down to his collarbone. He also has several different pieces down both arms, none of which I bother to look at since I’ve been looking at him for far