Deathly Hallows Tattoos Novels & Stories

Killian's grip tightened, and his lips were inches from mine, close enough that I could feel each word he spoke. "Run, Rhea, I'm giving you five seconds because if you stay in this room, I won't be able to stop what comes next." I didn't run because I couldn't, because as I looked at him, something began to glow on my shoulder, hot and bright and impossible. I looked down and saw a mark burning into my skin, the same tattoo that was etched over Killian's heart, wolves and runes forming a pattern I'd never seen before but somehow recognized.

"The war has entered a stalemate. The High Command cannot launch an atmospheric strike while three elemental anchors hold the sky." Caelen looked down at our joined hands, his eyes widening slightly as he noticed the new golden-red lotus tattoos glowing beneath our skin, interwoven with the triple-braided mark we already bore. A small, knowing smile touched the old warrior's lips. "Then the valley is safe for now. You have given us a window of real peace, Alpha."

That night, Henry finally let go of all restraint. The room lay in shadow, and he pressed me against the floor-to-ceiling window, the lights of Riverton flickering like stars beyond the glass. “Claire…” “Yes?” “I want to get another tattoo.” “Where?” He gripped my hand and pressed it to his lower back, mirroring the spot that corresponded to mine. There, with each of his breaths, a faint outline of a feral totem emerged. “I want to tattoo your image. I want to carve you into my bones forever.”

They were brutally killed, his wolf went all out to end their lives. He took off their masks and for a minute, he stilled. There was a tattoo on their forehead. It was a cross symbol, with a word written in Russia. "Dark knights," he mumbled. They were one of the most deadly werewolf gangsters in the world. How could his Father put so much effort into taking out Jordy? What level of hatred would make him go this far? Jordy. Thoughts of him got Jamal jerking to his feet and sprinting to the cage the men had stalked a while ago.

Then she took a good look at his tattoos. Her gaze traced the ink that stretched across his chest, dark and patterned against his golden skin. The tattoo sprawled over his left pectoral, a fierce black wolf, its eyes red and dangerous, as if it could leap off his skin and bare its fangs at her. The details were breathtaking, each strand of fur etched with perfection.

Lylah shrugged. The first line was destroyed. More werewolves, despite having many of their men down, still surged toward Lylah and the group. They were firmer and stronger, with heavy long blockers ready to support them at the front line. Falcon couldn't help but stare at Lylah's tattoo, especially the one on her left shoulder: ‘Little Wolf’. Then the other tattoos—where did she get them? As if sensing his gaze, Lylah glanced at him with a blank look.

She bolted out of her seat and disappeared down the narrow hallway, leaving me standing there, shocked and stunned to silence. I glanced down at my hands and realized the push behind her changed demeanor. My shoulders dropped. The skull tattoo with a black serpent snaking through the eye sockets was bold on my hand in black bold ink. There was a fine sword that cut through the skull, with the end of it dripping with red blood. Aramaic words were etched just underneath the figure like an unsaid prophecy. I straightened up and covered the ink before shoving my hands into my pockets. “Always sucks the fun out of everything. I should get it covered.” I turned to look at Terrell who only chuckled

"I'll be enjoying every moment of it." My cheeks are steaming red and glancing over at Galina, she is also blushing with her gaze downcast. She proffers me her hand and I wordlessly take it as I'm burning with fury inside over the dastard. My eyes catch sight of the tattoo on his muscled upper arm. The black ink of the Christian Cross encircled by a fierce Dragon, made a dramatic striking contrast against his fair skin. Some girls would think it was bad of a guy, however, to me it was bad news about a guy.

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

"He told me they weren't there to kill me. And he had this mark." Selene’s brow furrowed. "Like a scar?" "No, a tattoo," I said, shaking my head. "Black ink. It was a wolf’s head with a circle and a triangle around it." Selene pressed a finger to her lip, her frown deepening. "When we get to the Anatolikos packhouse, can you draw it for me?" "I think so." I reached up, my fingers brushing the metal pendant at the base of my neck. The tattoo looked almost exactly like the second charm on my necklace, just with a wolf added.