Deathly Hallows Tattoos Novels & Stories

I was born with a one-track mind—I take everything seriously and do exactly as I'm told. When my adoptive father cursed a rival company, calling them bloodsucking vampires, I immediately went out, bought ten pounds of garlic and a crucifix, and stormed into their CEO's office to perform an exorcism. When my adoptive mother said she was willing to sell a kidney for the sake of the company, I contacted an underground black-market clinic on the spot and asked when they could schedule her surgery. Over time, no one dared joke casually around me anymore. Everyone in the family chose their words with extreme care, terrified I might take them at face value. That is, until the day of the family reunion banquet—when the fake heiress, who refused to leave no matter what, showed up as well. She hooked her arm through my brother's and flashed me a provocative smile. "Arista, Benji dotes on me the most," she said sweetly. "He said if anyone dares to make me unhappy, he'll chop them into pieces and dump them in the river to feed the fish." The banquet hall erupted in laughter. I was the only one whose face went deathly pale. The next second, I kicked my brother, Benji Collins, straight onto the dining table. I grabbed the silver steak knife and pressed it against his throat. "Everyone, stay calm," I announced loudly. "I've already called the police! For publicly advocating premeditated murder, desecration of a corpse, and antisocial personality tendencies… The minimum sentence is the death penalty!"

I finally managed to score a dream tutoring gig that paid an incredible $500 an hour. Nevertheless, looking at the family portrait sitting in my employer’s house, I saw my own supposedly honest, simple mother. In the photograph, she was leaning affectionately against a wealthy, tailor-suited sugar daddy, who was holding a 5 or 6-year-old boy in his arms. Her smile was even warmer and more tender than the day she sent me off to college. My mind went entirely blank. I whipped out my phone, ready to start a video call with my dad to catch her in the act. Suddenly, a rough hand firmly clamped down on mine. It was my mom. She dragged me into a blind spot out of sight, lowering her voice to a desperate plea. "Sweetheart, please don't tell your dad! His dialysis treatments can't be interrupted! This man is loaded, and he's more than willing to give me cash. I'm just bleeding him dry to pay for your tuition and keep your dad alive!" The corner of my mouth twitched into a bitter smirk as I set the family portrait right back where it belonged. "Mom, do you actually believe your own lies?" Her face turned deathly pale in an instant. I didn't press her any further, though. Instead, I reached out and thoughtfully wiped a speck of dust off the glass frame. "Fine. Make sure you do a good job then."

"You invade my thoughts a lot Neah" Damon drawled, his eyes seemed starving, his tone softer than she had ever heard. "I-I ," Neah's eyes were drawn to his lips, she swallowed. "I envision to be deep inside you spread beneath me, my fangs at your neck, yet- yet I cannot do that to you, why?"Without waiting for her reply, Damon slammed his lips on hers. The kiss was fierce, desperate, yearning. Neah surrendered to the heat that arose within her, all opposing thoughts vacated Neah's head as Damon plundered her mouth. The reality of the kiss shattered every wall she's built. Damon's hands moved to her lower back, caressing her butt cheeks. "Mmmrh please~~" Neah moaned into his lips as his tongue delved deeper, coercing her into a dance she had never learned but now found herself desperate to master. Damon suckled at her lips greedily, every pull igniting flames in their entwined body, drawing more throaty moans from Neah. A deathly obsession! Neah, a wolfless Alpha heir had wet dreams about three beautiful Lycan Brothers. But then, amidst her chaotic life, fate swiveled her at the mercy of the three Lycan Brothers; Damon, Damian, Dylan who was possessive of her knowing she was their mate despite her young age as she couldn't find feel the bond yet. Neah later realizes that they were her mates and couldn't escape from their grasp but then, a false truth shattered her to the brink of confusion, hate and revenge for her mates. Now Neah's left to grapple the forbidden desire and the chilling truth about her mates merciless actions.

Los Angeles was supposed to be my home. Instead, it had always felt like a golden cage. The Smith mansion stood tall behind iron gates, glittering with wealth and silence. Servants bowed. Cameras watched every corner. And the man who called himself my uncle smiled sweetly for the world while hiding knives behind his back. I was seventeen when I heard the truth. “He will take care of the girl tonight,” my uncle said over the phone, his voice calm. “Make it look like an accident.” The girl. He meant me. Fear became the only thing that kept my legs moving. I ran from the driver who was meant to take me home, sprinting through unfamiliar streets until the bright city lights disappeared and the world turned darker. Detroit. Wrong place. Wrong time. Engines roared in the distance when I saw him. A man sitting on a black motorcycle like a shadow carved from danger. Tattoos curled up his neck. His eyes were cold enough to freeze the night. Everyone knew men like him were monsters. But monsters were sometimes the only ones who could save you. I jumped onto the back of his motorcycle and wrapped my arms around his waist. “Please,” I whispered. “Help me.” That single moment would destroy his life. And change mine forever. *******

It was only on our first wedding anniversary that I realized the rubbers I bought before our wedding had long expired. No one would believe that my mafia husband, Andre Garcia, and I had never consummated our marriage. That night, I gathered my courage and bought a suggestive nightgown. After downing three glasses of whisky, I hugged Andre tightly and whispered in his ear, "Darling, let's do it today. I want you..." However, Andre shook my hand off indifferently as if he were handling a gun. "Danielle Lawson, do you have no shame? You've done such shameless things time and time again. If you're really that lonely, I'll order you some toys so you can play with them to your heart's content." My face turned deathly pale as I stood there, stunned. I could not understand why a wife begging for her husband's affection was considered 'shameless' behavior. I curled up on the couch, unable to help but ask on social media. Danielle: [My husband has no dysfunction. Why won't he touch me after marriage?] Someone replied: [Perhaps your husband has someone else.] Like a dagger, that comment pierced me awake. I suddenly realized—maybe the problem was not that I was unattractive but rather that he was never mine. The moment I deleted my account, I also made the decision to leave. Who could have imagined that Andre, who would usually not even glance at me, would frantically search for me after I disappeared? "Danielle, I can't get a hard-on after you left!"

My son was kidnapped by rogue wolves during training. Ethan used all his connections as Beta to finally locate him in an abandoned hunting lodge. When I burst through the door, Tyler was already lying on the ground. His chest was a bloody mess, his heart ripped out completely. I chased after the rogue wolves like a mad she-wolf, desperate to retrieve his heart, but I was too late. Unable to bear the devastation, I collapsed and fell from the cliff edge. Ethan carried me to the pack healer's den, his face deathly pale. Before the healing ritual began, he gripped my hand tightly, his voice trembling: "Serena, you can't give up. Our son is already gone. I can't lose you too..." But when I regained consciousness, I found an anonymous text message on my phone. I opened it and heard a recording. "Beta Gray, you have already found another heart donors. Why specifically choose young Tyler? He's so young, and he's your son..." "He was just a tool to save Lucas. I raised him all these years—taking one heart isn't too much to ask, is it?" "Besides, the pack healer said a blood relative's heart has the smallest chance of rejection. Lucas is mine and Vivian's life. I can't bear to see him suffer even a little." My entire body shook violently. I could barely hold the phone. The man who repeatedly claimed to love me was the murderer who killed my son for his illegitimate child with his mistress. The marriage I thought was happy was nothing but an elaborate deception.

At the party celebrating Ryan making partner, his childhood friend, Jenna knew I was deathly allergic to peanuts, yet she deliberately put peanut syrup in my drink. I drank it, Within seconds, my throat began to tighten, constriction seizing my windpipe like a closing fist. Panic flared in my chest as a suffocating wave of heat rushed to my face. Desperate, I grabbed my emergency allergy spray from my purse. Instead, a harsh minty sting sprayed into my throat. She had swapped my medication with a mint spray. I turned pale and collapsed onto the hardwood floor, clawing at my neck, gasping for even a shred of oxygen. Jenna laughed so hard that tears welled in her eyes. "Wow, Isabella Moretti. Someone get this girl an Oscar for that performance. I’ve been a nurse at the top hospital in Chicago for five years, and I’ve never seen anyone throw a tantrum like this over a splash of syrup." I crawled toward Ryan on my hands and knees, biting my lower lip until the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth. "Ryan... please... call 911... I can't breathe..." Ryan looked down at me."Stop pretending, Isabella. Nobody drops dead from a little drink. Jenna is a medical professional. If you were actually in danger, she’d be the first to know." With that, he turned his back on me. I stopped begging. Using my final shred of strength, I triggered the phone's emergency SOS. A silent distress signal and my live GPS location immediately shot straight to my father.

She was sold as a broodmare. He was a warrior with no memory. Together, they'll burn down the world. Lyra has been called many things: half-blood, mongrel, dirty blood. Rejected by every pack she's approached, she's given one final chance—as a bride to Ronan, the cruel Alpha of Red River Pack. But when her wedding night becomes a nightmare, she stabs her new husband and flees into the frozen wilderness. Stellan remembers nothing. Not his name, not his past, not the ancient tattoos covering his body. He only knows that when he sees a terrified woman falling from a cliff into an icy river, he must save her—even if it kills him. On the run from a vengeful Alpha and his army of hunters, Lyra and Stellan discover an impossible bond growing between them. The moon has chosen them as mates. But Stellan's memories are returning, and with them, a devastating truth: he's not just any wolf. He's the Alpha of the North Star Pack. And a half-blood can never be his Luna. Now Ronan's brother has sworn revenge, an ancient prophecy awakens, and three packs prepare for war. Lyra must prove that bloodlines mean nothing—and that the most powerful bond of all is forged in ice and fire. He lost his memory. She lost her freedom. Together, they'll find everything.

I had been Silas Sterling's mate for seven years. We decided to get tattoos of each other's names. This was a Binding Tattoo that represented eternal love in the Moonstone Wolf pack. It had the power to bind mates eternally. When I got the tattoo, I realized the malicious words 'Public Male Amenity' had been tattooed on my chest. It chilled me to the bone. My adopted sister, Greta Pound, was the one who tattooed me. She covered her mouth as she laughed. "Don't you always enjoy attracting the attention of all the male werewolves by dressing so skimpily in the pack, Freya? I'm just helping you to publicize this." Greta was a female werewolf I had saved. Why was she treating me this way when I treated her like my sister? I grabbed her hair angrily, but Silas pushed me violently to the side as he pulled Greta protectively into his arms. He frowned as he berated me unhappily, "Greta was just joking with you. Why are you so mad about it?" I stared at his bare chest where my name should be tattooed. However, the name 'Greta' was there instead. She looked up at me from Silas' arms and smiled innocently yet tauntingly at me. "Silas said our names rhymed, Freya, so I played a joke by tattooing my name on him. You aren't mad about this, are you?"

Ryder didn't lose just one mate; he lost two. His first mate died the day he found her. Angelica was his second chance mate. She was his everything. The reason his heart beat and the air he breathed. She was the mother of their child, his beautiful angel. But in the blink of an eye, she was dead. Ryder had to find a way to live, a way to move on without her. He had to for the sake of their daughter. How does one continue to live without the person who breathes life into you? How do you move on from that? Is it possible to love again? Ryder doesn't think so, but she does. She's the complete opposite of Angelica. There's nothing sweet and innocent about her. She's hard, cocky, and speaks her mind. Angelica was soft and delicate; she is hard around the edges, and tattoos cover her body. She finds the mate bond interesting, and he is her next adventure. She doesn't take no for an answer, and it infuriates the Beta beyond belief. He wants to choke her, scream at her, tell her to leave him alone, and never return, but he wants to hold her and pull her into his arms at the same time. It's a battle with his heart. How does he allow someone else in when his heart still belongs to her.