Black Carnation Tattoo Novels & Stories

“I’m not giving you a ordinary tattoo…I’m marking you as mine because I’d definitely kill any guy who tries to hurt you” “Lucien…” “There’s no refusal to this tattoo Natalie” “Where’s it going to be?” “On your thigh”

“I’ve never counted. At least three.” Her hand glides over my chest, slow and grounding, drifting downward — anchoring me to the present, to being alive, to her. And for the first time in a long while, the demons hesitate. “Is this where the iron went through you?” she asks after a while, her voice barely louder than a breath. Her fingers trace the tattoo on my hip, slow and reverent, following the ink that hides the scar beneath it. Two laurel branches — a symbol for her name — curve like angel wings, delicate yet strong at the same time. And a tiny heart.

My blood ran cold. That totem was identical to the unique mark on Rocco's chest, the one that represented our eternal Mate Bond. Only true mates received such a mark—a symbol of blended souls, a lifelong promise. And now, she had tattooed it onto her own skin. And Rocco had allowed it. I put down my phone and called the pack's tattoo artist. "Luna Caterina? It's so late. Is everything alright?" Samuel, the artist, sounded exhausted. "Samuel, I need to book an appointment for a tattoo removal."

I looked from his inked chest, the tattoos on his chest, Caramel was written on his right arm, Roseanna - Momma was written on his other arm. A large Phoenix laid on his chest, I bit my lips harder as I stare at his lower region, Fuck, I think, no, I know I'm gonna die when he ever - fuck - that thing in me, It's fucking huge, Fuck, how on Earth?. . . I don't even know what to think. I walked around him to his back --- partly because I was dying to see his naked fine ass ---, On his back laid. . .nature, there's no other word to describe it other than Nature.

She was on her bed with another while one boy was sitting on my bed and another was standing by the window in the middle of both beds. All of them had their eyes on me the moment I stepped inside, and they looked like I was interrupting something, like I shouldn't even be there. And the boy on my bed didn't even look like he was getting up anytime soon. He had spiky purple hair that was obviously dyed. It was shaved at the sides, almost to his scalp and longer at the top. I didn't like dyed hair, mom was against it. He also had piercings, a nose piercing and two on his left eyebrow. His clothes were all black and gothic looking. My mom wouldn't approve of him, at all. The boy by the window h

I approached their weak-ass leader and pulled him by the collar. "Remember my face and this tattoo you dummy, cause this day forward I will be your master. You and your useless gangmates will be my slave. You understand?" I said, looking hard at him. I grabbed his jaw and took a dagger that I always hid inside my boots. I carved a letter 'V' on his face. It stands for Violet. I tap the wound I made. "Aarrgghh!" He cried out in pain. Oh, my, my. Music to my ears.

“Your tattoos are beautiful.” I look at the tattoo of a skull surrounded by black flames. My whole right arm is decorated with tattoos from shoulder to wrist. My skin prickles with every caress of her fingers, but I don’t stop her from touching me. The tattoo sleeve has several tribal symbols, and there are a seal trident and a frogman tattoo on my shoulder. Each tattoo represents something in my life. The skull represents my status as an Assassin, and the cross is a play on my name. Her finger moves down the line of my intricate cross, then to the inside of my rib cage, where I have an inscription. Qui velit, ut vivat in aeternum.

"Affirmative." A man in dark blue wash jeans, a brown leather jacket, a white t-shirts and black boots, walked up to the car and yanked the door open to see a woman hanging upsidedown, unconscious. His brown hair was cut short, showing of the red rose tattoos on the side of his neck. Though what really caught the eyes of everyone else that day was the death symbol tattooed on the back of his head. A skull and two bones forming a cross with fire burning through them.

She completely forgot about her tattoo and how sharp this bastard’s brain worked. "Well, what an odd coincidence. I happened to receive a bouquet of black roses with sharp thorns and a note warning me to be aware of the thorns in French. Then I happen to meet you with a black rose tattooed on your collar bone." Anthea didn't miss the amused glint in his eyes as he spoke. The sudden, smug expression on his face made Anthea’s blood boil. "Well, I thought you would like my welcome gift.” Anthea finally admitted, not wanting to continue this baseless argument with him.

He looked like he was carved out of a stone, so majestic and mythical. I was flabbergasted and speechless. He was also having a tattoo on his left arm. It was a creeper plant with roses and it was intertwined with thorns. There was also a black wolf howling near it and the moon was above the plant. The art was beautiful and the guy himself was a rare piece of art.