Drogon Tattoo Novels & Stories

Had Jag and Sid gone and gotten new tattoos? Camille knew that the markings on a Draygonian’s face were added when they reached sexual maturity. They signified tribe rank and family. Some were even to denote certain life events such as loss of a loved one. Where they were placed also had significance but Camille hadn’t seen anything about these new ones that now adorned Sid’s arms. They didn’t technically look like anything like the typical tattoos they normally got either. "Hungry?" Sid asked as the door slid shut behind him and the giant male dodged the taego trying to mug him of the food he had brought along.

He looked enticing with his furrowed brows and serious pout. What the heck, girl?! I mentally pinched myself as I tried to avoid the fact that Jordan himself was wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. I tried my best not to look, but I couldn’t help but stare at the tattoo on his back. It was a full scale dragon - I noticed that the end of its tail could be found on the base of his nape, its body running down the length of his spine then going around his right hip, its head disappearing just beside his crotch.

– He declared, letting go of my wrist, passing his thumb over his mouth, my eyes fixed on that man with a broad, defined chest, with a pecs designed as if he had been sculpted. On his neck he had a tattoo of a dragon that released a blue-green flame from its mouth.

He hurt her enough already. 'I will make you love me Nyra. I will protect you and cherish you like my queen. I promise' he vowed. She should have a tattoo to declare her as mine. "You must have a dragon tattoo on your body somewhere, right?" he asked tentatively. That's his claim on her. He is a dragon himself. He would know what will happen between mates. So it's not a surprise that he would know about the tattoo. "There is an orange dragon on my lower back. I didn't see the clear details about that tattoo. I know it's an orange dragon" she confessed. Drake's doubt solidified. 'She is my mate' he confirmed.

He scoffed, taking off his trousers, and I looked away. A wave of dread washed over me, not sure what to expect next. Fear rose in my chest as I curled my fingers into the bedspread. By the time I looked back up, he was fully undressed, but he had his back facing me. I felt a drool escape my lip as my eyes traveled over his body—broad shoulders, his muscular back adorned with a large crest tattoo, identical to his brother's, except he was larger, taking up the entire top left side of his back. The tattoo depicted a shield with two swords crossed above it. Two lions stood on their hind legs, pulling the shield from both sides. Below the shield, a banner displays the name "Dontrell." The desig

"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.

Doughy from good living and laziness. Drakon is carved from granite. His chest is a landscape of muscle and violence. A jagged white scar runs from his collarbone to his ribs—a knife wound, old and deep. Another scar, a bullet graze, marks his side. But it’s the ink that holds me. A massive tattoo covers his torso. Wolves. A pack of them, snarling, fighting, running. They wrap around his ribs and disappear onto his back. It’s a masterpiece of shadow and ink.

I answered. “Now, go to the parking behind the apartment nearest to the Han River. Get inside my car. I can automatically open it for you. Just inform me when you get there. Enter on the driver’s side. Then get the clothes under the backseat. Change there. Then call me again. Understand?” Black Dragon explained to me. Even though I hate being commanded, I have to obey him. I knew I already failed on this mission. “Got it.” I cautiously said. “Oh, and remember, keep your eyes open to men having a tattoo on their right back hand. Two swords forming an X.” he finished and I remembered the balloons’ design.

And that was when I saw it. Stretching across the width of his back was a massive black dragon tattoo, its scales inked with terrifying precision, claws angled like they were tearing through flesh, its wings spreading across his shoulders like shadows about to swallow the room and the jaws.... they were open in a silent roar, teeth jagged and vicious, fire curling from its throat in dark crimson strokes. Even as a boy, the sight froze the breath in my lungs. And from that day, I understood Dragos differently. I read the meanings knitting his words carefully, and before long I realized something unsettling.

His broad shoulders taper down into a sculpted waist, framed by defined abs that looked carved out of granite. But what took her breath away completely was his back stretching from his shoulder blades all the way down toward his low slung dark trousers was an intricate, dark, ink-black tattoo of a sprawling dragon, its tail winding dangerously over his hip. He turned around slowly at the sound of the door, his intense blue eyes sweeping over her damp skin and the plush towel clinging to her curves. Celine forgot her superhero pose. She forgot her seductive smirk. She forgot her own name. _____ Author's Note: