Matching Dinosaur Tattoos Novels & Stories

He’s wearing a large black coat and when he raises his left hand to run it through his hair an eye-catching tattoo appears, it’s a dragon tattoo coiled around his wrist. It's head resting on the inside of his palm while its tail is wrapped around his wrist, and the entire snaky body is covered in flames of red. Tilting my head in wonder, I can’t help but stare at the tattoo until it disappears when he puts his hand back down. The colours of the tattoo are so vivid and bright that it almost looks like it was painted on his skin. Not seeing anything else that could tell me why I’m uneasy next to him, I turn away and settle further into my seat to concentrate on the music from my earbuds.

“I’m not sure it will work, but based on what you just told me, if I do something to you, you can’t heal yourself, right? So, if I left a mark on you, a claiming mark, you wouldn’t heal and remove it, right?” “What kind of claiming mark?” she asks, and I can feel her excitement. I’ve thought about it ever since I realized that every other dragon pair left their mark on their mate. Even Merethyl left a magical golden band around Avani’s neck. “It’s a tattoo. I want to put it on you myself, but I’ll have to use a scalpel. I won’t go any deeper than a tattoo artist would, meaning you might bleed a bit, but it’s mostly a surface cut. I have dye that I want to use so you can see it easier. Would

I asked Abigail as I turned to face her, for Abigail to see the tattoo drawing very well. "Yes, that's how tattoos for mates are drawn here. So if another dragon or man kidnaps you, they will be irritated and won't be able to mate with you, seeing another man's face already plastered on you." "Hmm," I frowned, and Abigail reminded me, "Your bath is getting cold. Go and take your bath first." I sighed and stared again at the mirror to examine the tattoo. It was an image of Mikel with an expressionless face. I walked away to the bathroom to bathe first, still thinking and planning my escape.

Henna was something that he did for our pups because they all thought our tattoos were cool. An artistic banner that Damon designed was hung up over one of the main booths. It had my mate’s sexy ass name and the logo design that was associated with him. It was an ouroboros made of water with flames inside of it. Damon was leaning against the chair with his arms crossed over his chest. A proud smile was on his face. He had dropped everything the moment that he learned that my mate was going to be featured this year. He had been instrumental in Maddox’s success, whether he agreed or not. He had taken my mate underneath his wing and taught him how to spread those wings of his and fly.

Despite feeling as if I somewhat recognise him, my mind traces through all of my memories—dredging through those that are old and new, unable to place where I know him from. “I should’ve figured that you wouldn’t have recognised me. Sorry about that. It’s just me, Mato,” he smiles sheepishly while scratching his upper arm, ruffling his short sleeve and revealing an identical tattoo to the one that’s placed on Dakota’s lower calf—the same image that was carved into the cover of the gifted pack book I had received from Isaac.

Scar kissed her neck softly as she traced every line of the ink as if she was re-inking them herself. A large skull was surrounded by an array of roses. A Christian cross in the back, behind the skull, stuck out to Lani because of the dove perched on it so innocently. Scar's tattoos were a mixture of dark and light, they described him perfectly. The same happened on his arms, one was decorated with the ideas of Satan, the other those of holy angels.

The icy blast would’ve made anyone else recoil, but Dante stood there, solid and unmoving, like he was made of stone. His back was a canvas of ink, just like his front. The artwork was nothing short of breathtaking. Spanning across his entire back was a massive, detailed tattoo—an angel, powerful and divine, standing within the ruins of an ancient temple. The wings spread wide across his shoulder blades, reaching toward his arms, while crumbling pillars surrounded the figure in dramatic grayscale contrast. It wasn’t just a tattoo; it was a story, a testament, a work of devotion etched forever into his flesh. It was absolutely beautiful—mesmerizing, even.

I gave him a sheepish look. ' Don't look at them like that,'he snapped through the mind-link. 'You know I have only eyes for you' .We bricked back and forth through the link until one word brought our attention back to the twins. "Mine" One of the twins growled, his eyes were fixed at something behind my back or more like someone. He held a possessive flame in his eyes that were fixed on Emily. I looked at Emily and down where she was gripping her arm . Now her smooth white skin was marked with a tribal tattoo. A flame was burning with two dragons twisted at the body around each while bearing their sharp canines , facing one another. I turned to see if the same thing happened to the twin who

The tattoos are beautiful and heartbreaking in their stories. Running my hand over the fairy’s face, I place a kiss on his shoulder and ask. “Is this…me?” Micah turns around to face me again. I can see a tick working his jaw as he gazes at me intently. At first, I don’t think he’s going to answer, but to my surprise, he grumbles out. “Yes, she’s you. And I’m…” He points to the familiar-looking savage man on his chest, then the dragon. “I’m both of them. I’m both the dragon and the man.” I want to ask why he has a tattoo of me on his back, but I can tell by his expression that he’s reluctant to talk about his tattoos. However, I can’t help but feel giddy emotions stir inside of me at the thou

“So, he sees Bella as… what? A pawn? A target?” “Something like that. Or maybe something worse.” I let the silence stretch. “No names. No address. No real leads,” I muttered. “Useless.” “There is… one thing,” Damon said, suddenly remembering. “It might not be much. But once, just once, I saw his hand.” I raised a brow. “There was a tattoo,” he said. “A dragon. The way it wrapped around his wrist—it wasn’t like a normal design. It looked… custom. Expensive. Detailed. Almost ceremonial.”