Hell Hound Tattoo Novels & Stories

“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.”

“Your tattoos are beautiful.” I look at the tattoo of a skull surrounded by black flames. My whole right arm is decorated with tattoos from shoulder to wrist. My skin prickles with every caress of her fingers, but I don’t stop her from touching me. The tattoo sleeve has several tribal symbols, and there are a seal trident and a frogman tattoo on my shoulder. Each tattoo represents something in my life. The skull represents my status as an Assassin, and the cross is a play on my name. Her finger moves down the line of my intricate cross, then to the inside of my rib cage, where I have an inscription. Qui velit, ut vivat in aeternum.

His fur had once been a sleek, silken black. Age and hunger had dulled it. Scars crisscrossed his flanks. On his shoulder, visible where the fur had been ripped away, a tattooed sigil stood out, ragged but unmistakable: A crescent of ink laid over a blotched circle. Moon over shadow. He had seen that mark burned into trees, carved into stones, painted on shields in old war stories. The brand of the Shadow Pack. “What in the Moon’s broken face,” Tamsin whispered, “is a Shadow dog doing alive?”

He preferred it that way. Beta Remus entered the hall and sniffed appreciatively. His black eagle tattoo peeked out from the collar of his shirt. In a pinch, he could release the inky bird and it would take flight, providing reconnaissance from above. Each pack member's tattoo, received upon turning sixteen, transformed into a unique animal providing a unique gift. Only one wolf could claim each creature.

"Now you can put your hands wherever you want." I’m in a hurry to take him up on that offer, but my eyes snag on the black ink where there’s never been a tattoo before. Right cheek, exactly where my hand normally lands when I grab him. Capital letters, blocky and clean, with all the subtlety of a road sign, curving along the natural shape of his ass. PROPERTY OF DAX HOLT. Under the words there's a white wolf with amber eyes, head thrown back and howling. He put my wolf on his ass, and it's never coming off.

“And didn’t I tell you to drop the formalities when we’re alone, darling?” I have heard of the Dread Moon pack wolves being tattooed, but I have never seen one in person before. His right arm and pectoral are adorned with black ink, and I spy his pack crest amidst some rose designs. It is actually quite a beautiful tapestry and something inside of me seems to pull me toward him.

His lycan form would stand on two feet, he just had to awaken prime…in his own time of course but if he was awakened now, this fight would most definitely be done before it had begun. As I got closer something felt different…off even about the hellhound that is. I stumbled to a pause as it recognized me. I was a good distance away from them. Cassian took advantage of its distraction, wracking a class hand through its thick muscular neck. It roared in pain. The loud had a commanding sound sending all the hounds in the clearing to a standstill. Their heads lowered to the ground. I found myself lowering my body to a crouch. I flinched as I spotted Todd chopping off the head of one of the hounds

"I don't remember this place looking so unkempt." Logan walked over to the desk and rested on it, turning to face them. "Alright, enough gaping. This isn't the most terrible room you have ever seen." He waited until they had looked around enough, then started. "I have already told Casper about this Louve, so it's you that should listen to me. There has been some updates about the recent happenings." Louve looked from her cousin to Casper and back. "What updates?" She asked. "So when we captured the rogue wolf, we found this tattoo on his shoulder. It's shaped as a crescent in a circle. That tattoo really stood out to me as I had never seen anything like it before. It was a simple tattoo, yet

even as Selene gave you to be the mate of a werewolf, she chose a wolf who descends from my soldiers. No matter what you tried to do, you were always meant to come home even if it was being mated to a hell hound. You still found a way back to where you belong. That’s why I can still affect you through his mark!” I looked at him in confusion. He whispered in my ear “who do you think, created “Hell hounds” Me, I did. These wolves are not of Selene’s origins but, mine. She just stole them from me. Now, through you, I can have them back in some ways. They were my personal bodyguards and loyal soldiers.” He said with an evil grin. I was frozen in shock at this possibility. He was going to reclai

My mate. Drenched in blood, glistening under the moonlight. There were indescribable circular tattoos inscribed on both of his forearms. And a large Wolf face tattooed on his right side of his chest. His hair were long and overly messy. Each strand scattered across his face, sporting a shade of brown. His brown full boxed beards had grown messy too. If I found Jerry the perfect handsome man then that theory had changed now. Our eyes finally met and I instantly lost every iota of courage within me. Those Hazel eyes of his clearly expressed the suffering, pain, anger and hatred he had nurtured within him.