Meaningful Cherokee Tattoos Novels & Stories

“Do…do you want to see it?” “Only if you want to show it to me,” I say, my voice quiet. “I do.” She pulls her fingers out of mine and turns around. Chloe lifts her shirt, slowly revealing her back to me. There, covering her entire back, is a watercolor tattoo of a black bird in mid-flight. Its body is curved in a “c” shape, its wings spread overhead. The background is filled with splashes of color: teal, green, and purple. And the words “Take these broken wings and learn to fly” are inked between the bird’s wings.

Even though this place was small, they had a ton of boutique stores and other stuff that would keep you entertained literally forever. After going in a few of the stores and buying a few little things I looked down at my wrist. My brand new crow tattoo stared back at me. The symbol of our new pack that we’d gotten shortly after moving here. My other wrist donned an eagle. Which was the symbol of our old pack, my home pack. Where Rachel was, where my grandfather was. I suddenly had an idea… “Mom? I’d like to get a tattoo…” I said. Mom looked at me.

“You like them?” God, that smile. My knees actually shifted under the table. “Maybe,” I teased, though my voice wasn’t nearly as steady as I hoped. “They each mean something,” he said, rolling up his sleeve to show more. “This one" he tapped the wolf "is for loyalty. This one—" he pointed at a jagged line with fire etched into it "is for survival. "And this” He smirked, pulling the neckline of his shirt down slightly to reveal a tattoo near his collarbone. “is just for fun.”

I could see him take a deep breath when my palm landed on his chest, tracing the drawings. There was a wolf with wide wings on his right arm and a phoenix on his left arm. I felt something magical with them; they seemed to relax at my calm touch. The lion standing under a tree on his chest looked so endearing that I couldn't help but look into the lion's eyes. The tattoos weren't ordinary; every one of them had a meaning that I was sure of. "Do you love it?" He asked softly, looking up at me; our eyes met, his not leaving mine.

Something big is coming, and for once, the entire supernatural world is in agreement: the Riding Hoods have to be stopped. Kanati—according to Cherokee legend, the first man—looks like he’s about 25. He’s tall, even by werewolf standards, almost matching Dad’s height. He and his translator, Kamama, both have deep tans from living outdoors. Their faces are angular: sharp cheekbones, flat arrowhead-like noses, strong jaws. Kanati wears his long black hair in a scalp lock—shaved on the sides, with a thick lock at the crown that flows down his back. A hawk feather is woven in, and small braids decorate the length. He has a septum piercing, earrings, a silver cuff on his upper left arm, and neckl

Harken just narrows his eyes, fed up with the night’s events as is, but lifts his shirt to rip it over his head, revealing the large mixed tribal and Celtic style tattoo that runs from his left wrist up his arm and to his chest, the intricate symbol of the Lewis tribe crest in the middle of his breast, and the large head of a wolf covering his shoulder, winding and thick brushed tribal designs covering the skin around them. “Guess again, asshole. If you’re so familiar with their markings, you probably know what my ink means.” Harken glares down at Karl, watching as the kids’ wide eyes wander over the tattoo, his fingers gripping his forearms. “Well, w-what’s that one then?” Karl asks and poi

I have explained. “When did you get them?” He asked as his fingers traced the tribal tattoo on my spine. “On my 24th birthday.” I smiled. "What does it mean?" I hummed. “I don't know. I just thought it looked cool, plus Darius' beta mate encouraged me to do it. She said and I quote – tattoos add to your personality, make you look tougher and scarier.” I chuckled at what the girl said. "However, I'm not sure, but I like it."

“What does it mean?” She heard the sound from his phone and scowled at him from over her shoulder. He’d just taken a picture of her tattoo, back to full brat mode. “Meaning?” he repeated, still holding his phone up. She rolled her eyes but explained it anyway. “It’s the kanji for ten, that means heaven. I thought that if I was going to carry something carved on my skin for the rest of my life, it should be something I truly believe in.”

Below it, I wore faded denim shorts that showed off my long, dusky skinned legs paired with a fashionable pair of black heeled boots that went just above the ankle. So the spreading, navy blue tattoo was clearly visible for the world to see and it formed a tribal tattoo exactly identical to the one Chester had on his chest !! “That’s the mark of my father’s clan,” he revealed. “It is said that only true lovers are able to get exactly identical tattoos which is the rarest of rare case, believe me, specially if the lover is not from the same clan,” he elucidated. “This mark will always protect you and give you my part of the courage and energy if you ever need it when I am not with you. It is

She loved to watch the strength there, the corded muscles and the thick forearms as he performed any kind of task. Tapping her thigh twice, he motioned for her to unwrap her legs and then helped her down. Not saying anything, she closed the distance between them and made short work of his cut as well as the shirt he wore underneath it. He stood in just a pair of jeans and his motorcycle boots. Without a shirt on, she could see all of his tattoos and for the first time, she took the opportunity to look at them. Some were MC related, others were obviously related to his culture. As she ran her lips around the circumference of his frame, she noticed one that gave her pause. On his left shoulder