Feminine Dog Tag Tattoos Novels & Stories

"I'd appreciate the company, actually." As she arranged the cups, I noticed a small tattoo on her wrist—a crescent moon with a star beside it. "You're from Crescent Valley Pack originally?" I asked, recognizing the symbol. Surprise flickered across her face. "Yes. How did you know?" I gestured to her wrist. "The tattoo. Each pack has their own symbols. Crescent Valley uses the moon and star." She nodded, looking impressed. "That's right. Most wolves from other territories don't recognize the subtleties."

“Yannick saw the kids born from those women as assets. The boys would go on to become his boeviki, and the girls … Well, we had other uses.” We? Did she just say we? My eyes widen as I hold my breath. She straightens up, advancing on me with purpose. I start to stand, but she’s faster. She kneels in front of me, ripping open her jacket and shirt to expose the skin on her right shoulder. Pressed into it is a tattoo of a fox sitting on its haunches. Its black body is surrounded by thick, detailed chains. One look, and I can tell that the tattoo has been there for a long time.

I turned my head, and she gasped again touching my marking spot. I slowly turned her head and looked at her mark. It usually took more time for a mark to take, but I was stunned to see her mark fully formed. “Yours is beautiful,” I murmured, as I took in the beauty of the tattoo. It was two wolves standing side by side. The male was slightly taller, while the female was just about the same height.

"Yevgeniy saw the kids born from those women as assets. The boys would go on to become his boeviki, and the girls ... Well, we had other uses." We? Did she just say we? My eyes widen as I hold my breath. She straightens up, advancing on me with purpose. I start to stand, but she's faster. She kneels in front of me, ripping open her jacket and shirt to expose the skin on her right shoulder. Pressed into it is a tattoo of a fox sitting on its haunches. Its black body is surrounded by thick, detailed chains. One look, and I can tell that the tattoo has been there for a long time.

She was so tight, so wet, always ready for me. I reached out and ran my hand over her delicate face. The tattoo on her forehead was so unique and beautiful that it looked like a tiara. If we had a daughter, she would have the same tattoo on her forehead. Then, she would also have a back tattoo of our pack. I wondered what it would look like. Kaya had a Crescent Moon Pack tattoo on her back. Two long lines ran up her spine, and at the top was a Crescent moon. What would be ours? We didn't have a sign for our pack.

Keely hip-checked Indy and whispered, “So now that Domini is officially a McKay, let’s figure out where you’re gonna tattoo her.” “What? I have to get a tattoo?” “Ssh. India has tattooed all the women who’ve married into the McKay family with the McKay cattle brand. It’s something we started with AJ.” Keely grinned. “Since we didn’t throw a bachelorette party before AJ’s wedding, we had a private tattoo party afterward at Indy’s new studio. Channing and Macie’s brands are ‘tramp stamps’ on their lower backs. Mine is on my hip. Indy did hers on the inside of her left thigh last year. Skylar’s is on her shoulder.

Asim switches to the other breast and I moan as Hikaru licks and nibbles where they marked me. It looks like I have many tattoos where all of my mate marks are from the Celtic dragon and vines on my wrist to the dragon on my shoulder, the Kitsuné on my neck and the wolf shield on the opposite side of my neck. Add them to my three actual tattoos which are all witchy and I look very inked up.

“If so, this should be an easy question.” “Fire away.” “What animal is tattooed on Cillian’s upper thighs?” I shot her a look, my eyes wide and shocked with her question. “Tattoo? Inner thighs?” Kinsley’s forehead creases, her eyebrows meet in confusion. “Yeap. What animal is it?” I watch Kayleigh tilt her head as she waits for Kinsley’s reply. Kinsley and Reagan glimpse at each other. I can tell that they’re communicating in their mind-links. Probably making theories of what my tattoo is.

Yet it tr‍embles at‍ the edges, as if s‍he‌’‍s memorizing lines sh⁠e doe‌sn’t‌ want t⁠o say. I force a smi⁠le. “Tell your boss he coul‍d’ve p‌ic‍ked som⁠ewhere with windows.” ‌She doesn’t a⁠nswer. She only sets the tray‌ down, types s‌omething on the tablet, and t⁠urns for the door. T‍hat’s when I see it‍—the small‌ pin on‌ her c⁠ollar. A silver crest shaped like a falcon, wings s⁠pread w‌ide. Damon has the same emb‌lem tattooed on his wri‌st‍.

"So we've got options." "What about this?" she asked sheepishly, moving her hair over her shoulder. Sandra's eyes widened at the revelation of the jagged little marks toward the back of her neck. "Whoa," she murmured. "Yeah, of course. Here," she said, dropping what she had in his hands to pull out a black leather collar with a silver ring and a dog tag on front. "This will work perfectly," she said, fitting it around her neck. She pulled her hair up so she could fasten it. The collar was certainly thick enough to do the job.