Celtic Sword And Dragon Tattoo Novels & Stories

He scoffed, taking off his trousers, and I looked away. A wave of dread washed over me, not sure what to expect next. Fear rose in my chest as I curled my fingers into the bedspread. By the time I looked back up, he was fully undressed, but he had his back facing me. I felt a drool escape my lip as my eyes traveled over his body—broad shoulders, his muscular back adorned with a large crest tattoo, identical to his brother's, except he was larger, taking up the entire top left side of his back. The tattoo depicted a shield with two swords crossed above it. Two lions stood on their hind legs, pulling the shield from both sides. Below the shield, a banner displays the name "Dontrell." The desig

Doughy from good living and laziness. Drakon is carved from granite. His chest is a landscape of muscle and violence. A jagged white scar runs from his collarbone to his ribs—a knife wound, old and deep. Another scar, a bullet graze, marks his side. But it’s the ink that holds me. A massive tattoo covers his torso. Wolves. A pack of them, snarling, fighting, running. They wrap around his ribs and disappear onto his back. It’s a masterpiece of shadow and ink.

In the left portion of his chest, lies a blue dragon that was emitting fire from its mouth. It looks much like a tattoo to me, except that, it was moving. The mark on his chest is moving! His tattoo fascinated me so much, I had to stop myself from touching it. "What was that?!" I exclaimed when another set of marks appeared on his chest along with the dragon. The mark shows two swords crossing against each other behind the blue glowing creature. "This is the mark of prophecy, the dragon symbolizes the fated savior, and this two crossing swords behind it, symbolizes us, your guardians."

Before anyone had taken two steps he was at the man who had been shouting seconds before in an instant, blade held to his throat, his hand around the neck of the other. At that moment a sunbeam broke through the canopy and shone on to the badge pinned to Boro's coat. The gold lightning bolt shone for all to see now. The gold lightning bolt that symoblized his first step to mastery of the sword. "I said if you moved, you would die. Should I kill you both now?" Boro asked the two men softly, both their eyes leaving the golden badge to look at his face. "You're men from that village I passed through, I recognize you from dicing in the inn" Boro squeezed the other man's throat tightly to make su

I never knew such beautiful place exists in Stormhalt as I never did go out often. Down at the water edge, I sight Leo's godlike figure emerging out of the water half naked. I am mesmerized by the way water cling to his long hair and sliding down the dark strands to pool on his shoulders. I can see all of his muscles clearly defined. I also noticed for the first time that there is an ink on his right bicep. Leo has a tattoo – dragon tattoo. He shakes his head and run his palm down his wet face, allowing the water from his hair to spray around him like drizzling. He slowly start to dip back into the water.

Alister asked and stood up, he drew his sword and placed it next to the other sword on the table "Read its name..." Danté squinted at its Celtic encryption "Dragonsbane" "Does that name ring a bell to you?" "No?" "They are the swords of our forefathers, this belonged to Sir Lancelot, a knight of the round table" Danté chuckled "A Knight of Arthur? Did you steal this then?" "Did you steal yours?" "It was handed to me by the cross!"

I need my sword. Reaching behind my back, I feel the cool, smooth texture of my marking shift beneath my fingers. There’s a brief moment where the ink pulses, almost as if it’s alive, before it solidifies into the hilt of my sword. I draw it out, feeling the familiar weight settle into my hand. The blade hums with energy, a glowing blue that pulses in time with my heartbeat. This sword is mine, a part of me, born of my blood and soul. Athena’s gift, forged from my very essence.

My fingertips tingle where they rest against the cool mattress, the magic beneath my skin restless, like an animal pacing its cage. The dragon tattoo between my shoulder blades pulses with a life of its own, warmth spreading outward from the design in rippling waves. I reach back, tracing the outline I know by heart—the sinuous curve of tail, the spread of wings, the proud arch of neck. It feels different under my fingers, raised like a fresh brand rather than the decade-old ink it is.

“I had a couple of ideas. The first was on your neck where Tana’s mark is, but that’s a Lycan mark and I’m not Lycan. I thought about over your heart, like yours is on me, but that’s a dragon’s mark and I’m not a dragon. So, I was thinking about putting it at the base of your neck where your shoulders and your neck meet. What do you think?” “I like that idea,” she says. “Now, what is it that you’re going to mark me with? You said it’s a tattoo?” “Yes. It’s a variation of a celtic knot. It means love and infinity, which represents my love for you. I will love you forever, until the end of time,” I say, stroking her hair away from her face when she lifts her head to look at me. “Everett, that’

He was in a fight with a dragon prince, all he needed was a distraction and today fate was on his side. The men were pressing Raisel and although she was holding her own, she was having a harder time doing so as the men pressed on. “Kill her off!”, Votigern barked with a sly smile. And at that moment Dragomir turned to Raisel then Votigern made his hit, he plugged the blade through Dragomir’s heart. The blade he had recovered from the blacksmith’s shop in Avalon, the blade he had recognized as the blade forged of a thousand dragon breaths, the only blade capable of piercing through a dragon’s thick impenetrable skin, the blade capable of causing great damage to a dragon in human form, the bl