Gladiolus Tattoo Novels & Stories

A massive tattoo stretched across his back, dark, swirling lines that formed a wolf’s head surrounded by a crescent moon. Kieran stood at the counter, chopping vegetables with the precision of a surgeon. His long red hair fell over his shoulders in loose waves, and his tattoo was just as beautiful as Kai’s: a roaring dragon with flames curling down his spine, its tail disappearing beneath the waistband of his jeans. Kylan, of course, was leaning against the fridge with a smirk that could melt steel. His tattoo was a constellation of stars and a running wolf, the design wrapping around his ribs and down his left side.

Alarich lowers his head in submission "I speak to you not only as your humble servant, but as a friend. If you don't perform your duty, despite you being above the law. Our kingdom will be emboldened and a potential unnecessary rebellion could be on our hands" My mark. To humans it looks like a tattoo all over my left side. It starts from my bite scar, above my left breast. Black vines and flowers trail from it, down my side and wrapping around my leg to my foot. Then it trails up my chest, along the side of my neck, swirling and wrapping down my arm and ending at the tip of my ring finger.

Killian's grip tightened, and his lips were inches from mine, close enough that I could feel each word he spoke. "Run, Rhea, I'm giving you five seconds because if you stay in this room, I won't be able to stop what comes next." I didn't run because I couldn't, because as I looked at him, something began to glow on my shoulder, hot and bright and impossible. I looked down and saw a mark burning into my skin, the same tattoo that was etched over Killian's heart, wolves and runes forming a pattern I'd never seen before but somehow recognized.

Running down his spine was a tattoo of a dagger, flanked by two cobras coiled around its blade, each poised to strike the other. The crossguard was shaped into a Trinacria—its eyes hollow and haunting, its hair a wild tangle of serpents. On its three bent legs were the words etched in a stark, gothic script: Famiglia, Orgoglioso, Patria. The ink stretched over the planes of his back like a warning—Family, Pride and Homeland. He stood up, and my suspicions were confirmed—completely naked, without a hint of shame. He slept next to me completely naked—fucking naked. But before I could even start to argue or throw some biting comment his way, something else pulled my focus—his ass.

“The one I cut on the back?” I blinked at her. “You mean the little asswipe with the shitty tattoo who wanted to fuck up my pretty face with his brass knuckles? Yeah, I’m fairly positive I don’t care if he’s okay. But from the way he lit out of there like his tail was on fire, I’d say he’s just fine.” “It wasn’t a shitty tattoo,” she mumbled. “It was the eye of Horus. Some thought it was a symbol to ward off evil, but it’s actually supposed to symbolize healing.”

Jean murmured, finishing up the piece for me. Ciaran was covered in ink. So was Dargan. Ranging from geometric art to roses and the like. The pain couldn't be that unbearable if they had sat through so many hours. Or had they drank themselves into a stupor as well whilst doing it? Adelia turned to one wall, eyeing a semicolon tattoo. The bottom of it was a butterfly with its wings slightly open. The top was its head, antennae sticking from it. She looked at it this way and that until I stepped closer. Her eyes averted and I knew what she felt. Shame.

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.

Grace long to explore it, but she respected Xan's wishes. “Grace, you shouldn’t be out here by yourself!” Xan said coming up behind her and putting his hands around her waist. Xan softly kissed the side of Grace's neck where her Gang mark was. The mark was a Phoenix and a Lion rearing on its hind legs with a harp in between them. All three gangs are represented in a beautiful coat of arms style tattoo. Xan had repeatedly told her that she did not need to have it on her neck, but Grace wanted to show who she finally was. Yes, it hurt like a bitch, but it was something that Grace truly wanted to do and her family could not be prouder.

She has wide, bow-shaped lips, a small straight nose, and tattoos on both arms and hands of smoke that starts between her knuckles and swirls up and around her arms. He knows it flows up to and around her shoulders, meeting up with a back tattoo of a phoenix with some flowers, creating an intricate backdrop for the bird. The flowers have the names of those she's lost along the way hidden in their stamens and petals. She cups Kai’s cheek and he sighs, leaning into her touch,

The smooth velvety warm caramel skin clung to seductive massive curves of muscle, trailing up to broad full shoulders Outlined in what appeared to be intricate golden tattoo ink in hieroglyphic patterns some I recognized like the Ankh the Egyptian representation of life on his rose gold armored gauntlets, others were completely unrecognizable to me with their intricate curves. My eyes slowly traced his tattoos the odd tribal patterns leading from his wrist up to his forearm up his biceps disappearing beneath his armor. Each new glimpse of his body sending my pulse through the roof. I could barely breathe with the way he was holding me so close to his chest. As I looked up at the face of my r