Freya Tattoo Ideas Novels & Stories

Kane explained. "Indeed, Freya is Nyx's daughter. Fate works in mysterious ways." I replied. "Talking about fate, let me ask you a question," "Ok." "How did you get that mark on your chest?" Could it have been what he was staring at? "It's a birthmark," I answered.

The fresh black letters of his name sat right beside my soaked pussy throbbing and glistening under the dim lights of the studio. I could feel every single pulse of my heartbeat in that stinging skin and it made my whole body feel alive in a way I had never expected. Riot’s fingers traced over the fresh tattoo slowly with no gloves on now just his warm rough skin dragging across the sensitive raised lines. The touch sent sharp little bursts of pain mixing straight into pleasure that shot deep between my legs. “Look at that Freya, my name is permanently inked right next to this dripping wet cunt of yours,” he said, his voice low and gravelly as his fingertips pressed a little harder tracing e

Wait; give me your phone. “Quick,” Kiera said, handing her phone to Freya, curious about what she had in mind. Freya quickly entered her contact information and handed it back with a smile. "Now we can stay in touch," she said. "I'll text you later so we can plan our next hangout!" With a wave of goodbye, Freya hurriedly left the workplace, leaving Kiera feeling excited about the prospect of their future friendship.

Oloron walks the lines with a satchel of crystals that knock softly together like patient bells and Tara’s shadows gather at the tree line in a quiet crowd, curious and ready. I stand where Freya puts me, the east point, and try not to think about cages. “You anchor by asking,” Freya says, simply. She’s Nicholas’s half-sister, sharp cheekbones, sharper eyes, a daylight witch who’s patient with wolves if we’re useful. “Don’t force it, don’t bargain, ask and mean it.” “I can do that,” I say, and it isn’t bravado. My whole life people told me I feel too much, fine, but tonight it’s a tool.

"Share your troubles with us, and let us ease the weight you carry." Freya sighed, her eyes reflecting her inner turmoil as she began to speak. "It's Tigreal," she confessed, her voice laced with a mixture of confusion and longing. "There's a flicker of familiarity in his eyes, a connection that stirs my soul. It's as if there's a connection between both of us." Violet and Rose, the spirited and loyal maidens, exchanged knowing glances before stepping closer to Freya. Violet's voice rang with understanding as she spoke, "Lady Freya, rage has a way of defying reason. Perhaps your heart recognizes something your mind cannot yet grasp."

That was according to my mate at least, so it would be wise to trust her. Hopefully, she liked the way it looked on me. It covered up most of my tattoos except the flames that ran up the sides of my neck. Those had been my sexy mate’s suggestion. And, oh, she definitely fucking loved how they looked because she was the one that designed them. They were not your typical flames because they were created from fractal art. ‘What do you think?’ I asked Byron. ‘You’ll be lucky if our Little Fae can keep her hands off you. Wouldn’t be surprised if she gets handsy in the Limo.’

The four types of tattoos were the Alpha tattoo, the Beta tattoo, the Zeta tattoo, and the member tattoo. My tattoo had seven moons at the top of my back with two versions of the Helm of Awe on each shoulder blade. In the middle of my back was Yggdrasil, the tree of life with a wolf head coming out of the roots. Finally, below the wolf and running down my spine was my name in Old Norse. In the middle of Yggdrasil’s branches, the Alpha sign of our pack was cleverly blended in.

Turning back to the council, I add out loud, “Our Temple is the best source of knowledge in this.” All eyes turn to the door as Freyja, High Priestess of the Oceana Moon Goddess Temple, steps into the room. Her robes are similar to Silanya’s back in Winter Realm, white with silver trim that glows with ethereal light. But unlike Silanya, Freyja’s hair glimmers with red, lighter than Lyra’s but not unsimilar in shade. Everyone rises, and Darragh pulls out a chair, which Freyja accepts. “Please tell us about the amulets,” I ask her.

Charlotte replied, stepping closer. “Talk to her like she’s you. Because she is.” Freya stared at her. Then, after a moment, she nodded. Later that night, Freya lay curled on her side, eyes wide open in the dark. Slowly, she reached toward her heart, whispering into the silence, “Please, Seraneth. Help me understand you. Help me stop this. Let me do what you couldn’t. All I want to do is help you…and me…and the world. I want people to have the liberty to birth twins for free. You need to…forgive Zalkhar. Please, Sereneth. If truly you are me, bare yourself to me.”

He was mildly aware of her movements, his arm still wrapped around her. “Still sleepy?” Freya asked. “Hmmm,” he said with his eyes closed. “I intended not to look at my laptop today.” Freya’s eyes moved down to study him—all of him. She noticed his morning erection. An idea popped into her head. “I’ll go to the bathroom.” But before going, she fetched her new gift. Freya washed up and put on her sexy bondage lingerie. The lingerie did not cover any of her private parts. They were decorations at best, merely outlining her breasts, her ass, and the opening to her sex. It looked hot and sexy, making Freya’s face turn red.