Knights Templar Cross Tattoo Novels & Stories

Marcus said. I lifted my head and looked at the bike again through tears. Now that I could see past the shock, I noticed the rest. The new paint was deep black with a subtle shimmer that only showed when the light hit it just right. Along the side of the tank, worked into the design so delicately I almost missed it, was a dagger. Behind it, a crown. Around both, the fine lines of a compass, woven together in the exact shape of our tattoo. My hand pressed against my chest.

Aria closed her eyes, unable to take the intensity of his gaze, her lips unconsciously puckering up. His ringtone sounded loudly, startling Aria. With his arms still around her waist, he picked up. Yes, the first word tinged with irritation, Ok I’m on my way. I have to leave Yes, that’s alright. I’ll see you tonight, he left but not before stealing a light peck. It was only after he left that Aria finally breathed. Had he always been like this? She’d obviously heard of Roman Knight, but he was always described as a ruthless man with no patience or tolerance for anyone. The fact that unlike those second-generation heirs, he’d never had any scandal with a woman, made people question his sexual

Lenora's POV Alpha Zade stood before me, stark naked, his chiseled physique on full display. My eyes darted wildly around his body, taking in the tattoo that covered part of his chest and left arm. His tattoo was the same as the symbol I had seen on the signboard earlier. ‘Two daggers crossed over its forehead, their blades adorned with ancient runes.’ Alpha Zade's tattoo, a symbol of his Pack's heritage, seemed to glow in the room's dim light, a reminder of his strength and authority and power.

Enchantment ink. This wasn’t some cheap note. Kaidën leaned in closer to peer over my shoulder. I could feel his warmth pressing against my back, the air growing thick between us. As I carefully opened the parchment, my breath hitched; the first symbols began to glow. It wasn’t words. It was a crest. One I hadn’t seen in ages but could never forget. My throat tightened. The emblem depicted a broken moon surrounded by three dark talons, inked in ash-black.

For the most part, the packs got along but there was still always a sense of authority that was tested. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you look good. Can’t be representing our pack badly.” Jacob was getting our Crest tattooed on his chest. It was the head of a wolf with its teeth showing and blue blood dripping from the fangs. Kind of spot on for whoever designed it but whatever.

Why would I have a memory that didn't include sight or smell? I’m having these thoughts while lying nude on a hard bench as the queen massages Imperial Imperial oil, the same oil Ona used to heal my wounds, into my skin. It is a tradition in royal weddings that we are anointed with this oil, preparing us for joining in body and soul. Primus will be going through a similar ritual with his siblings. From here we will bake in the early morning sun, allowing its light to kiss us from head to toe, after which they will paint our bodies with runes for health, prosperity, and fertility just before they mark us with our marriage tattoos. Primus and I decided on a simple, traditional symbol, a mount

My breath hitched as I caught sight of it in the mirror he pulled out of my bag—a faint yet intricate design swirling across my collar bone, glowing faintly silver before settling into a deep, ink-like black. The tattoo was mesmerizing, an elegant crescent moon at its core, its curves etched with delicate runes that seemed ancient and alive. Surrounding the crescent, fine lines branched out like veins, forming patterns resembling intertwining vines and stars, as though the night sky itself had been imprinted onto my skin. The vines wrapped gently outward, framing the crescent in an intricate lattice of beauty and mystery, their edges tapering off just shy of my collarbone. At the crescent’s

he replied. His scent filled the space between us..cleaner than anything in this rotting dungeon. It made something deep in my chest twist. I didn’t trust it. I didn’t trust him. But I wanted to. He leaned back just enough to look at me fully, hood falling away from his face. A tattoo peeked from the side of his neck…two crescent marks overlapping. Purplemoon. Old-blood. Rare. I stared before I could stop myself. Before I could ask. Before I could breathe.

"This ritual involves the binding of your spirit to the pack. It’s a sacred tradition that signifies your commitment and connection to everyone here. You will receive a mark, a tattoo that symbolizes your bond with us." She produced a small vial of ink and a delicate, ornate needle. "This tattoo will be placed on your left wrist. It’s a representation of our pack’s symbol—a crescent moon intertwined with a wolf’s head. The ink is mixed with the essence of our ancestors, binding you to our lineage. But it won't be visible to anyone who is not a part of our pack." I held out my wrist, feeling a mixture of anticipation and reverence. As Sophia began to work, I winced slightly at the sting of th

“They don’t want to kill you, Nova. They want to use you.” I sat down hard on the edge of the second bed with my hands shaking. Cruz crouched in front of me. “But they won’t, because you’re not leaving my sight again.” “You think you can protect us?” “I know I can.” “How?” He stood, pulling his shirt up. There it was, the Hellborn Kings insignia tattoo I remembered from five years ago. But underneath it… was a new mark and a line slashed through the symbol. “You left the Kings?”