Itachi Tattoo Crow Novels & Stories

On his chest was black insignia tattooed on it with a silver crown wrapped in thorns. Jax went completely still which made cold spread slowly through my chest. “What is that?” I asked. He looked up at me slowly, and somehow his expression frightened me more than the attack itself. “That,” he said quietly, “is the Kingshade mark.”

I bite my lip as I take in his bare chest, the tattoos on him look like they were inked by a god. Each of his existing tattoos are flawless, the one that catches my attention every time is the crown tattoo, I have never seen any like it. The crown has a flame where the biggest stone on it should be placed and it burns brightly in my vision everytime I see it, as if it were a 4D tattoo. I always feel like I have seen it somewhere before, like I know what it represents and I have the clean sheet to the history of the tattoo on my fingertips but it slips away everytime. My second favourite is his sleeve tattoo, it is a tribute to his sisters.

Her nod was weak. My mind was half on her and the other half was on something else. I had noticed something on the attacker's body. It all happened fast but I still noticed it. And that was the image of the crow tattoo on the attacker's axe. It was something distinct to only the Crow family and I had seen it on the axe. It made me worry. There was no other axe like that in the world yet, it was distinct to Blake Crow, it was the mark of his clandestine organization, the symbol of his control and power. And he and Anthony only used that mark.

He scoffed, taking off his trousers, and I looked away. A wave of dread washed over me, not sure what to expect next. Fear rose in my chest as I curled my fingers into the bedspread. By the time I looked back up, he was fully undressed, but he had his back facing me. I felt a drool escape my lip as my eyes traveled over his body—broad shoulders, his muscular back adorned with a large crest tattoo, identical to his brother's, except he was larger, taking up the entire top left side of his back. The tattoo depicted a shield with two swords crossed above it. Two lions stood on their hind legs, pulling the shield from both sides. Below the shield, a banner displays the name "Dontrell." The desig

She seems to like lying that way. From the angle she is laying I can see her mating mark. I remember seeing three wolves with crowns above their heads looking at the moon before I added my mark. Now beside a wolf I believe is Arya is a man with a pale face dressed in black. Me. I have a crown above my head as well. It is truly beautiful. If others outside our world were to see it, they would think it was a tattoo. They would never know the meaning behind it. I haven’t looked at mine yet though I am curious. I want to get a look at Ryan's and Luther’s.

Some in memory of the lives I was forced to take and others to remind me why I was here, why I was so dark and hollow inside. Two tattoos held more meaning than the rest, though. The first is the crest for the Bloodstone pack. It sat just above my heart. Two wolves howled at the moon on opposite sides of a sword that sunk between a crown and shield—roses growing around the tip of the blade.

Sasha blurted out. Aki shrugged. “Brown Slayers have full body tattoos, right? Well, it turns out Budo’s tattoos are non-tribal and resemble those of gangsters.” “What’s his spirit animal?” Sasha asked. “A hissing cockroach,” Aki replied. All three Slayers looked at each other and then burst out laughing.

“Grandmother despises schemers. When she finds out you’re the reason I lost my inheritance, she will make you pay. I promise you that.” “I’m the reason?” I scoffed. “That’s rich, coming from you.” “At least I have true Moretti blood in my veins!” Dante suddenly thrashed, trying to get up. “You’re nothing! You’re just a cheap—” His words were cut short. In his violent struggle, he tore the sleeve of his hospital gown. I saw it then—a black tattoo on his forearm. The design was distinctive: a double-headed eagle with Cyrillic letters beneath it. My heart skipped a beat. That was a Bratva tattoo. The mark of the Russian mob.

As she unbuttoned his shirt, she noticed the tattoo of a horse on his neck which was mostly concealed by his shirt. "This is one of Christopher Stallion's men," she said. "What?" "Look at him," she said, pointing to the tattoo. "That is impossible," the governor incredulously. "My men are all trusted men." "But he has the tattoo of a horse on his neck. It would interest you to know that Stallion has a similar tattoo, and so does every member of his gang. Do you doubt it? I have a tattoo of a scorpion on my back because I am a Black Scorpion. All the members of the gangs have tattoos on their bodies."

Slowly, he turns away from me, tugs at his shirt, and lifts it up. There! Pristine and raw, is a new tattoo on his skin. A black crown on his shoulder. My mouth goes dry and suddenly I can hear Ulyana as if she's standing here with me: Tattoos. Every man of the Bratva has some. Some signify their past deeds, terrible or great things they've done, and their ranks. It doesn't take a genius to know what the crown means. I'd suspected Yevgeniy planned to kill me, but now I know for sure.