Dark Moon Tattoo Novels & Stories

His eyes, the same black as mine and my mother's, scan the eager faces gathered around the fire. “Thorntrees!” Damien calls out, and we all beat our chests in response to the name of our pack. “We gather under the watchful eye of the impending moon to ready five young hearts for their destined mates.” His words resonate through the clearing, a mixture of reverence and excitement palpable in the air. The pack members nod in agreement, their anticipation building like a storm on the horizon. But for me, the words send a tendril of dread through my heart.

Fiona's POV Susanna's fangs. The crest of the DarkMoon Pack was engraved on the doors, right at the connecting line of both doors. The crest was an exaggerated wolf fangs with a glistening sharp end at the foot of a black moon. Susanna had mentioned once that it signifies the danger shrouded in mystery. I had figured that the danger was for Fangs and DarkMoon was for mystery. But I had always thought the black moon signifies shadiness. I thought her interpretation was dumb.

Which I cannot wait for now. She moans and deepens her bite, causing a rumbling roar to fall from my mouth. She pulls away and licks the wound for it to close. And she gasps, “Orion, there is a tattoo forming in my mark on your neck. It’s a crescent moon.” I am a little shocked. All mates get a tattoo like mark after they have marked each other. But never do they get matching ones. I will have to ask my mom about this. “We will look into what the symbols mean, my love. What do you say we go take a nap?” She smiles and goes to get comfy in the bed next to me.

Stone greeted and the girl who sat on Stone's lap got up and swung her ass towards Jason. "So you are the famous Black Moon. I've heard a lot about you, but despite that, I want to hear from you" she sucked her lower lip and brought it out gently all wet, the girl had a small black butterfly mask, her eyes were painted black and her lips too. She wore black leather gloves which stopped right at her elbow, and her bra and panties made of net were all black. Everything she had on was black, including her heeled boots. "Stone, get to the deal " his voice echoed in the room. From Stone, Jason averted his gaze to the flirty lady

"I seek the power of Azserroke, Demon of the Darkness. Bring to me my other half, my blood, my soul, my sister in the womb. I offer you the blood to seek my desire. I offer you the power of this soul." The words seemed very straight forward and simple. I didn't know how all this mumbo jumbo worked, but if it was supposed to be straight forward, that wasn't exactly how I would have put it. The blood from my hand dripped on the bottom point of the star. Mila's body went rigid. Her mouth lifted to the sky in a terrible scream that raised goosebumps to my skin. The circle and symbols within glowed an eerie green.

"Who?" "Aaron Blackwood," Emma said. "He was a prominent figure in the town's history, and there are rumors that he was a werewolf. I think he cursed the pendant and is using it to control someone who's carrying out the murders." Jack listened carefully as Emma explained her theory. When she was finished, he nodded thoughtfully. "It's possible," he said. "We'll look into it." Emma felt a sense of relief wash over her. Finally, they were getting somewhere.

The hoodie draped loosely over his head, obscuring his face, but the flicker of city lights occasionally illuminated the sharp lines of his jaw and the hints of a sinister smirk playing on his lips. The wind picked up, a fierce breeze whipping across the rooftop and causing the hood to flutter. As the fabric shifted, it revealed a chiseled, muscular torso adorned with intricate tattoos, each line telling a story of violence, power, and mystery. Prominently displayed on the left side of his chest was a large, bold tattoo—the words *Nosce Hostem* inked in a jagged, menacing script that seemed almost to pulse with life against his skin. The tattoo, a clear message, spoke of a deep connection to

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

Just as I stood, the door creaked open. It was Damon. He was shirtless, his tanned skin slick with a fine sheen of sweat that made his muscles ripple with every movement. As he turned to close the door, the morning light pouring through the window caught the ink on his skin. I finally saw it clearly, the tattoo that dominated his back. It was a masterpiece of ferocity: a massive, snarling wolf with its fangs bared in an eternal roar. It covered the entirety of his broad back, the intricate black ink making the creature look as though it might leap off his skin at any moment.

“And didn’t I tell you to drop the formalities when we’re alone, darling?” I have heard of the Dread Moon pack wolves being tattooed, but I have never seen one in person before. His right arm and pectoral are adorned with black ink, and I spy his pack crest amidst some rose designs. It is actually quite a beautiful tapestry and something inside of me seems to pull me toward him.