Deathly Hallows Tattoos Novels & Stories

“You’re sure no shifters had this mark?” He gave a single nod. I studied the tattoo—a serpent coiled through a three-headed skull, each skull bearing the distinct features of a mamba, a cobra, and a viper. A flicker of recognition stirred in my memory, but I couldn’t place it. Pulling out my phone, I snapped a picture. “I’ve seen this before—just can’t remember where. I’ll dig into it from my office. Thanks, Doc.” He acknowledged me with another nod before sliding the body back into its cold drawer.

his tone is wicked as he nuzzles my neck, his hand moving to trace the tattoo, another one on his neck. It’s a large black wolf, surrounded by a full moon with my initials, R.S His tattoo on me had the initials H.S for Hades Solomon. “What’s your relationship with Damien Shadow?” he suddenly growled, “do I have to warn him away from you? Do I have to challenge him to a duel?” He's serious. There's jealousy in his voice. I laughed out loud, surprising him, and shook my head. “I guess I can tell you now. Damien Shadow is my biological brother.”

She thought the stormy havoc in her mind would calm down after her oath ceremony instead the storm turned into a typhoon. Aria eyed the two-snaked ring representing Cosa Nostra and the Flying Eagle representing Bratva. The tattoo on her wrist got stained with the blood oozing from her palm. And the image of Aleksandr falling back on the ground after she shot him flashed in her memory. And she paled as the blood froze in her body. Her mind was bursting with ache as it kept imaging the ocean blue eyes of The Merciless Monster! Her deceased Merciless Monster!

Flesh hung loose around the torn trachea, and every breath came out as a wet, choking gasp. There was no saving him. “Ugh… cough!” He spat out a mouthful of blood, his entire body shaking as life rapidly drained away. For the first time since the battle began, uncertainty flashed across the faces of the surrounding rogues. Carlisle didn’t spare the dying man another glance. His attention had already settled elsewhere. Right above the rogue’s heart, partly hidden beneath blood, was a tattoo. A spider lily. Wrapped around a crescent moon. Carlisle’s eyes narrowed.

She pressed herself against the wall, peeking through the gap. Father Zerus stood with his back to her, his cassock already on the floor, his broad shoulders bare. He was reaching for a clean shirt when she saw it—the tattoo that covered his left shoulder blade. It is a serpent, coiled around a dagger, its scales , its eyes burning with an inner fire. The dagger was stained with drops of blood, and beneath it, a single word was etched in elegant script: Sosa. Krystal's blood turned to ice. The club. The night she had been so drunk she could barely stand. The man she had walked into, the man whose hand she had grabbed, dragging him through the crowd. The man she had kissed before he had pushe

Being claimed by an Alpha of his strength while my body was already weakened by the heat had left me more sore than I wanted to admit. As I stood there in the dim light of the corridor, my mind involuntarily flashed back to the first time I’d gone to Damon’s room for help. I remembered the ink on his skin. It had been mesmerizing—thorny vines wrapping around his neck, dark symbols on his forearms. But it was his back that haunted me. He had skeletal wings tattooed across his shoulder blades, intricate and macabre. And right down his spine, there was a line of cursive script. I hadn't been able to read it then, but the image of it was burned into my mind.

She had only glimpsed parts of it before, but even from across the room she could see the design. A two-headed eagle. “What?” He followed her stare and looks down at his tattoo. “Oh. This,” he said. “It’s a folly of youth.” He sounded a little embarrassed, and he frowned, seemingly puzzled by her keen interest. She couldn’t take her eyes off the ink as she walked toward him. He raised his elbow so she could have a better look. Inscribed across his biceps was a black shield bearing the image of an ivory two-headed eagle hovering over five yellow circles that are in the shape of an inverted V.

The revelation about the masked man having a dragon tattoo had struck a chord within him, sending his thoughts spiraling. A surge of memories flooded his mind, memories he had tried to bury deep within his consciousness. The image of a fierce dragon tattoo, its intricate design etched upon a powerful Lycan King's arm, resurfaced in his thoughts. Xander knew all too well the significance of such a mark. It was a symbol of authority, a mark reserved for those who held immense power within the Lycan community.

Some in memory of the lives I was forced to take and others to remind me why I was here, why I was so dark and hollow inside. Two tattoos held more meaning than the rest, though. The first is the crest for the Bloodstone pack. It sat just above my heart. Two wolves howled at the moon on opposite sides of a sword that sunk between a crown and shield—roses growing around the tip of the blade.

I could still feel their eyes on me as we moved across the floor to the stairs. "They all have the same tattoo" Dante mind-linked me. I had failed to notice many details on our tour, focusing too much on a certain Alpha. Luckily Dante was doing his job "a Cresent Moon with a star" he continued in the link. I looked around and sure enough, I saw a lot of tattoos like Dante described, the design seemed familiar but I couldn't place it. "It was the symbol carved into the fountain." He linked again. Thank the goddess Dante had his act together.