Draco Gun Tattoo Novels & Stories

He’s wearing a large black coat and when he raises his left hand to run it through his hair an eye-catching tattoo appears, it’s a dragon tattoo coiled around his wrist. It's head resting on the inside of his palm while its tail is wrapped around his wrist, and the entire snaky body is covered in flames of red. Tilting my head in wonder, I can’t help but stare at the tattoo until it disappears when he puts his hand back down. The colours of the tattoo are so vivid and bright that it almost looks like it was painted on his skin. Not seeing anything else that could tell me why I’m uneasy next to him, I turn away and settle further into my seat to concentrate on the music from my earbuds.

“Purple, ladies. It’s purple.” The color of royalty. I swallow nervously at the amethyst bracelet adorned around my wrist. The trinket hanging around my neck is of a black dragon, with small citrine stones for eyes. yet as Maren reaches for the leather strap of my pendant, my hand graps hers gently. “this stays, please.” Maren doesn’t argue, opting instead to brush hair from my face and direct my gaze to the mirror. My mouth falls open on a gasp.

“Your tattoos are beautiful.” I look at the tattoo of a skull surrounded by black flames. My whole right arm is decorated with tattoos from shoulder to wrist. My skin prickles with every caress of her fingers, but I don’t stop her from touching me. The tattoo sleeve has several tribal symbols, and there are a seal trident and a frogman tattoo on my shoulder. Each tattoo represents something in my life. The skull represents my status as an Assassin, and the cross is a play on my name. Her finger moves down the line of my intricate cross, then to the inside of my rib cage, where I have an inscription. Qui velit, ut vivat in aeternum.

Without hesitation, I fetched my phone out of my pocket and browsed on the internet what it meant if someone had a tattoo of a scorpion on his wrist. Some images were displayed on my phone screen and even before I could read out the content behind the scorpion tattoo, someone already beat me to it. "It symbolizes the membership of a well-known dangerous gang known as the Gun fire men." A familiar deep voice rung out loud from behind.

“ I shook my head. “No. You don’t understand! Draco is my mate! My partner!” I had no idea what I was trying to do. Why was I explaining this to him? “Mate? Then the more I don’t like him.” His eyes changed color in a split second, turning to a full black with a slit in the middle that was the color of the leaves. “Do it!” He added, and he was looking at someone to his right. I followed his line of sight and saw one of the creatures sitting in a tree holding a bow and arrow, aiming his bow at Draco. And then he fired.

“It is a shame that you won’t be here to watch his world fall apart.” Suddenly his, which had been transformed with dragon claws, plunged inside her stomach. She let out a cry as she reached out and touched a glowing hand on his chest. He yelled out in pain, pulling away from her and staggering back. I saw there was a handprint burned onto his chest, with the head of a dragon seared in the center. I watched in horror as his skin started to heal, but the print remained, like a tattoo. He let out a growl as he returned to her.

Deeper. León's breath caught at the sound of the voice in his head. “A tattoo?” Draco tilted his head, and a flicker of something like amusement crossed his features. He gestured again and waited. The choice hung in the air. The others had marked him with teeth and claws and seed. Draco was offering something permanent, something that would last beyond the aches and the bruises. León looked at the needle, then the ink before he looked into those silver eyes that held no pressure.

Before I could recover from the state he put me in, and cover myself, Draco's hands wrapped around my throat and he pinned me to the bed, and surprisingly he didn't apply pressure. Before I could open my mouth to speak, he flipped me on my back, revealing the full tattoo. There, resting along the dip of my waist where my spine met my tailbone, was the tattoo. Thin black vines stretched across my lower back like sharp, broken wings, spreading from one side to the other. The lines branched out like small veins, meeting at the center of my back. Right above my tailbone sat a small flower, simple but clear, petals opening gently between the dark lines.

Since Rolph had never met this guy or took any business from him, the only possible explanation was that the guy was connected to Marek. To think that the greatest threat to his life walked into his home, spent the night and even bought his Elite as a slave was overwhelming. Rolph was shaken to his core. So many things ran through his brain. Why would Draco risk coming to his home? What was his agenda? Rolph immediately accessed the security database of the ranche, looking for footage of Draco but to his surprise, he found none until he spotted a familiar tattoo behind the ears of one of Draco's men who was being sneaky. The tattoo was Draco's and it was patent. No other person can use it un

Dragon starts rolling up his sleeves, revealing faded Calavera tattoos, “Chain’s fine. Got a tension tool in my box. I’ll fix it antes de que (before) sundown.” Poking at the rusted exhaust, “Pfft. Tool ain’t magic, kid. And this exhaust? Sounds like a dying chupacabra.” Dru stifles a laugh. I shoot her a glare, but I'm trying to hide my own smirk with my beard. Dragon shakes his head, then glances up towards Dru on the porch, “¿En serio (Seriously) You think I’d let her hurt? I seen what happens when you don’t guard your crew.” Dragon rolls up his sleeve further, revealing a tattooed date—“2003–2019”—inked beneath the Calavera’s hollow eyes. The numbers curl like smoke from a prayer candle,