Ella Purnell Tattoos Novels & Stories

He called me naughty, but he didn't say no. The post showed two hands intertwined. On the man's inner wrist was a circlet of sacred laurel leaves—the soul-bond mark the High Priest himself had inked on us at our engagement. But in this photo, hidden in the veins of a single leaf, were three tiny, exquisitely tattooed letters: S.E.R. I scrolled back to the very first post, from a year ago: “Just ran into the Alpha and his woman. He's so gentle and strong. I want a man like that… so I'm going to make him mine.”

I'd let them into my heart, into my home, and they'd nearly destroyed everything. "Prove it," I said coldly. "Prove you're my mother." Perla studied me for a long moment. Then, slowly, she reached up and pulled back the left sleeve of her cloak. On her forearm, glowing with the same silver light as my Mark, was a tattoo. But it wasn't a crescent moon and wolf. It was more complex—a tree with spreading branches, its roots deep and tangled. And woven throughout the design were symbols I didn't recognize, ancient and powerful.

I certainly was. Percy was nothing, but gentle. He was slow to undress me, which did nothing to prove his words of being quick. He stood up undressing himself, showing me the toned muscles I didn't know he had. Apparently Percy had gotten a tattoo at some point that he told none of us about. It was a black hole over his heart, leaking black fluid over his chest with small stars and planets inside of it.

Her eyes were blue colored and she had full kissable lips she painted over with some clear lip gloss. She had a large watercolor tattoo of a Phoenix on her left side in red orange and many other colors. On her thigh was a watercolor tattoo of a wolf howling to the moon. What bothered her the most was the three most personal tattoos she had. One was on her right forearm it was a watercolor tattoo of a Celtic Love knot the read “Love is real”, Rhys has the same one that read “Real is Love”. Another one was the was of their fingerprints that came together and formed the shape of an heart, Rhys also had the same thing. And the last was the obvious one, It was and eternal love tattoo right above

“This is completely new territory for me.” My eyes betray me. They drag over his bare chest, his abs, the way his pants sit low on his hips. And I feel my stomach tighten at the sight of his tattoos — ink and meaning and temptation. A yin-yang with hearts instead of dots and the number thirteen at its center, about the size of a big coin, is on his left side underneath his arm. Curling above it is the Peter Pan lettering — Sniff pixie dust and soar — in a cursive font. And on his bicep — the Reaper logo stamped on like a warning label.

And that desire was only getting stronger. The closer she became to him, the more his wolf wanted to claim what it already believed was theirs. Valduz forced his attention away from her throat. “Tell me about your tattoos.” Hope Elara glanced down at her arm before resting it on the table. “I designed it myself.” Of course she had. Valduz reached across the table and carefully took her wrist. Her pulse jumped beneath his fingers. So did his. He slowly turned her arm and studied the artwork. Roses wrapped around her wrist. They were beautiful at first, but as the design climbed higher, it began to change.

“is just for fun.” Heat climbed up my neck. “And what’s the fun one supposed to mean?” “You’d have to find out for yourself.” His voice dipped low again, and I swore my heart skipped. One of his friends Ryan grin leaned in then, resting an elbow on the table. “You’re not the only one with ink worth showing off,” he said, tugging up his own sleeve. The tattoo was intricate, swirling with roses and blades, like beauty tangled with danger. The other two joined in, each showing me their designs a phoenix across one’s back that peeked over his collar, a serpent winding down another’s arm in precise, dangerous curves.

Liliana compliments, standing beside me with Anarchy in her arms. “Thank you, I’m excited to teach Raven. I’ve been tattooing our kind for about a century now, practice makes perfect,” Ares admits while reaching out tracing part of Benjamins tattoo, making him flinch not expecting the touch. “What’s wrong little man?” Embry questions making me look over at to see Gunnar in his arms, squirming out of his blanket as he whimpers. “What is it, Bubba?” I question while brushing my fingers across Gunnar’s hot cheek, making me smile seeing his blue eyes glow.

He wanted the whole world to see it. Elara’s fingers fisted in his shirt, tugging impatiently. Riven pulled back just enough to yank the ruined fabric over his head and toss it aside, revealing the powerful, scarred expanse of his chest. Moonlight filtering through the tall windows gilded the ridges of muscle and the dark ink of his pack tattoos. He was bigger than she remembered...honed by war and grief into something almost feral.

Mark was slightly taller than I and was a hundred and ninety pounds of rock solid muscle, his shoulders were wide and his waist narrow, he was not muscle bound, but there was not a damn thing on him that was not exactly where it should be including a set of abs that would make a twenty year old jealous. Mark, like me in a sleeveless shirt caught a bit of attention. Both of his arms shoulder to elbow were covered in enormous tattoo's, on the right was Pan the Celtic devil; horns, hooves and red eyes glaring, on the left was an incredibly detailed image of the Pale rider of revelations fame. With his build, the tats and his five o clock shadow Mark was flaunting the "Bad Boy" look and carried