Hiei Black Dragon Tattoo Novels & Stories

sneered the swordsman, driving his blade mercilessly into the man’s back, piercing through to his belly. “My husband!” screamed the woman in anguish, clutching her daughter tightly as tears streamed down her face. The little girl’s wailing soon joined her mother’s cries, filling the night with sorrow. “Finish them all! I must return to Leader Huang,” the swordsman declared coldly, yanking his blade free from the lifeless body at his feet. The man wearing a black headband, emblazoned with two downward-curving golden lines, burst forward with lightning speed toward the circle of swordsmen who were besieging a lone warrior of the Sacred Dragon Sect.

She might not have been right in my eyes, but it didn't warrant an argument in the middle of a human settlement. "Let's not hash this out here where anyone can walk close enough to us to understand that this conversation shouldn't take place between two human girls," I instructed and walked towards where I spotted a boutique. Cyra walked with her arm tangled within mine but didn't comment. She was the Heir for the Ignis. The fire dragons. A few years younger than I am, with a tall slender frame and untameable red hair. By all accounts, she was stunning, but a very wild spirit to tame. Except when it came to her views on humans and dragons. Those were very rigid lines in her book and lines sh

He is the vice president of the Black group. "The final presentation is on my laptop. Get my laptop ready," Kael instructed his assistant, Lena Steward. She is in her early twenties. She is a low-level dragon with limited powers. Dragons are three types: black, orange, and green. Alpha Dragons are black, while mid- to average-level Dragons are orange. Dragons without a beast are green. They have heightened senses, but cannot shift. "Yes, boss," Lena replied. She pulled his laptop from the laptop bag while she entered the private elevator with Kael and Michael. The moment she removed the laptop, water started dripping down from the laptop.

"I am not sure yet. I just heard some ladies at the club talking about it. However, what if it's just another mob called Black Wolves, you don't even know what the killer looks like?" "I may not have seen his face, but he has a black wolf tattoo. A tattoo of a wolf was clearly drawn on his arm, and the word BLACK was boldly drawn in it, signifying black wolves. I am sure every clan member must have a tattoo like that, just like we all in the Adrenaline mob, who have dragon tattoos".

"Just like I thought, you are mated to one of those hotheads," "Mated? Like destined to be with them forever?" "Yes. The tattoo simply means you are mated to a dragonoid. Dragonoids are one of the rare creatures of fire, born with limited access to heat. Only their kings have the power to shift into a real dragon. I'm sure you know Ace, he is one of them; one of the strongest to say the least. They don't usually have mates, they simply fall in love and get married or just get married without love. But when the dragon of their fire marks a mate out for them—"

As they entered the final courtyard, three figures rushed toward Adrian, but they were swiftly subdued by the Draco Force and collapsed to the ground. The seventh-grade men knelt before Adrian, trembling uncontrollably, unable to move or speak. "It appears to be you three," Adrian remarked, lifting the constraints on them. "What brings you to our establishment?" inquired the leader. The man’s upper body was exposed, revealing a black dragon tattoo adorning his back. Unlike the vibrant tattoos on Thalia, this one appeared crude and cheap.

If he and his wife could live, then he would definitely do anything to make peace with his children and grandchildren. "Come on!! Let the darkness come upon them, and I will swallow that darkness for my family! Dragon transformation!" Long Heian shouted loudly to the sky. His body rose higher and turned into a black dragon figure filled with darkness. Zin Zier, with a strong intent to kill, climbed onto the head of the dark dragon.

Dragons were one of the few shifters known to leave a tattoo like head that matched that of our dragon. I had only seen it on my mother a few times. It was very light, but Odessa’s seem to grow darker and darker by the hour. In fact, several dragons in the tribe had dark marks. Maybe it was because my father was an alpha and my mother’s descended blood from several generations ago might have been a factor for the lightly colored tattoo because I had seen no others with the same.

He looked enticing with his furrowed brows and serious pout. What the heck, girl?! I mentally pinched myself as I tried to avoid the fact that Jordan himself was wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. I tried my best not to look, but I couldn’t help but stare at the tattoo on his back. It was a full scale dragon - I noticed that the end of its tail could be found on the base of his nape, its body running down the length of his spine then going around his right hip, its head disappearing just beside his crotch.

The kind of room that had no purpose and therefore no softness. Draco was on the far side of it. I registered him in pieces, the way you registered things when your body was already reacting before your mind had fully caught up. The shirt on the floor somewhere behind him. The shirtless back turned toward me broad and defined and covered, across the left shoulder and down the spine, with a tattoo that was not decorative. A dragon, rendered in black ink so detailed and so large that for a moment I simply looked at it the scales, the wingspan, the specific quality of something that had been inked not as art but as record. A testimony. This happened to me and I survived it and here is the mark