Constellation Tattoos Novels & Stories

If I wouldn’t have listened to him, he would have tightened his arm more and I would have ended up with shattered bones. His warmth was heartwarming and it gave me the courage to run my finger along his muscled tattooed arm and I made small circles along the lines of his tattoo. He had this artistic tattoo of a warrior on his forearm, wearing armor and he was looking up at the constellation and that moon that was inked in Romeo’s biceps skin. And I wondered what that tattoo was about.

Every time Crystal had painted something against the starry night sky, they were the same stars in each of them. It was easy to assume that was her impression of the stars—it wasn’t easy to find a relationship unless you were looking for a pattern. And this particular pattern was tattooed on my torso. It was the same constellation—Lyra. The very constellation my sister was named after. I didn’t know Mama knew so much about stars. There were many names related to stars that she could have given my sister but knowing her, there was a very high chance she researched what constellation was in the sky that night if she wanted to give her daughter a meaningful name.

After things cleared up with mate, life went on as it seems. Mate and I mated that night and now I have a beautiful mark on my neck. The wolf looking up to the moon was just so stylish. I don't even know how to express how unique the mark is. Dylan and Diana have yet to mate. It was kinda disappointed especially since I saw how close they are every day. What the hell is Dylan waiting for?! 4 months have passed since the day I returned "home".

I bow my head, pretend to focus on the screen. "You were staring," he says in a low, amused voice. He leans against my desk, arms crossed, towering over me. "My tattoos interest you?" I shake my head, too quickly. "No, I… it's nothing." He chuckles softly. "Liar." He pulls up the left sleeve of his t‑shirt, revealing more of the raven and other symbols: a miniature cathedral, eight‑pointed stars, Cyrillic numbers. "Every design has a story. The raven… it's for memory. For those we've lost, but never forget. The stars are rank. The cathedral… the faith you keep even when everything else goes to hell."

I smiled, though my body trembled slightly with unease. He smirked, his eyes darkening as he sauntered towards me. Slowly, he reached out, invading my space. My gaze drifted to his chest, where intricate tattoos sprawled across his skin, half of his left chest completely inked. There was a large python coiled menacingly, its fangs bared as if ready to strike. Surrounding it were other symbols—a bleeding dagger, an intricate skull wrapped in thorns, and a blood moon rising behind them all. The ink seemed almost alive, dark and haunting, like it held secrets too dangerous to reveal. I had seen something like this before. The imagery was disturbing, almost as if he were part of some secretive c

"We found something. The bodies from the cabin, they had matching tattoos. Symbol we've never seen before." "Send me a picture." "Already did." I pull the phone away from my ear, opening the message. The image loads, and my blood runs cold. It's a constellation. Orion's belt. Three stars in a perfect line. "Damian?" Don's voice comes through tinny and distant. "You there?" "Increase security at the mansion. Triple the guards. No one in or out without my explicit permission." "What's going on?" "Orion isn't just watching anymore," I say. "He's making his move."

I had a folder with all the entries for the tattoo ideas in it. "My favorites are these three." I mind-linked. She took out the top three and looked at them. The first one was a crescent moon with a swirling cloud thing behind it. The description was that we were called shadow pack, so it would make sense that we had a shadow of the moon to represent us. She then looked at the next one. It was two hands that looked to be made from shadows reaching for one another. Then she came to the last one.

Chapter 99 – The Shattered Constellation The field of stars stretched endlessly around them, shimmering faintly like a sea of fireflies frozen in time. Each star pulsed rhythmically, casting soft light across the group as they struggled to regain their footing after the fall. The air was thick with an otherworldly energy, making it hard to breathe—not from lack of oxygen, but from the sheer weight of what surrounded them. Jessica stared at the constellations above: one shaped like a wolf, the other like a witch. Between them burned the words **"Unity Is Strength,"** glowing brighter with each passing second. Her hybrid nature surged within her, responding instinctively to the celestial displ

Our eyes held for a moment too long, and I felt that now-familiar flutter in my stomach that both thrilled and terrified me. Kev finished Rafael's tattoo in half the time mine had taken, given its simpler design. "There you go," he said, wiping it clean. "Sun and stars. Suits you two." We held our wrists side by side, admiring how the black ink stood out against our skin, his olive tone, my paler complexion. If we pressed our wrists together, his sun would align perfectly with my constellation, like they belonged together. Like we belonged together. The thought ambushed me, dangerous in its temptation. I couldn't think that way. Not with my prognosis hanging over me like a shadow.