Medusa Crying Tattoo Novels & Stories

The natural waist dropped into a sheer fabric with flowers stitched into it. The scars have relaxed and really created a pretty chain-link pattern. Although our wolves really worked on healing me, they are just now calming down and looking like regular scars. I have grown accustom to them to the point that I want to get them tattooed. As a symbol of my strength and determination to not let evil win. Soft music was playing as I paced around this tent. The only thing I knew about this event was the smell of lilacs. “Ready?” Colt lifted the side and stepped in.

But the bond doesn't seem to care. Dread crashes through me. Because now what? I can still reject her, but it'll be worse now. More painful for both of us than it already would have been. ‘You traitor! What the fuck have you done?’ I snarl at Medus. ‘You've ruined everything.’ ‘No,’ he says smugly, retracting his teeth and licking Zanthe's neck to help heal the bite. ‘I've fixed it.’ I feel sick. And now I really need a fucking drink.

Touching her tattoo, I ask her what it means. “I don’t know how to explain it. You’ll think I’m crazy if I do,” she says. “Try me. I’ve had my fair share of crazy,” I offer in response. “I had the tattoo done after suffering a loss a few years back,” she explains. Pointing at it, she continues, “You see this? It’s called a Nautilus shell. Can you see how it curls up into itself, almost like it’s never ending? For me, that represents infinity with no end and no beginning.”

A weird date crossed my mind, I closed my eyes and typed the date of Layana's heart surgery and the date of birth of her nephew, I closed my eyes expecting it to decline but it opened, and my mouth hung right open. How this Layana's surgery connect to this card, anyway I have to watch it to find out. The card had so many files, I opened the first file, it was a video of Violet getting a Medusa tattoo on his wrist, but I had never seen a tattoo on her wrist.

She thought the stormy havoc in her mind would calm down after her oath ceremony instead the storm turned into a typhoon. Aria eyed the two-snaked ring representing Cosa Nostra and the Flying Eagle representing Bratva. The tattoo on her wrist got stained with the blood oozing from her palm. And the image of Aleksandr falling back on the ground after she shot him flashed in her memory. And she paled as the blood froze in her body. Her mind was bursting with ache as it kept imaging the ocean blue eyes of The Merciless Monster! Her deceased Merciless Monster!

Cruella's eyes widened in horror as tears buckle up her eyes. " No. Medusa please help me, I'm begging you. I can't die...not yet. I can't fail my people, my kingdom. No Medusa...please " She pleaded, her tears rolling down. " Too bad...you already did " Medusa grinned. " When you get to hell...tell your momma you're a loser just like her " Cruella's anger flared up as Medusa turned to leave. How could she betray her so easily?

The water hit my knees, the heavy fabric dragging me down, making it harder to move. The crowd on the balcony was silent now. The champagne glasses stayed still. They weren't whispering anymore. They were watching the Tyrant walk into the abyss. “Maggie! Get back here! This isn't funny!” Eddie’s voice finally cracked. The Sculptor was realizing his statue was walking off the pedestal and into the sea. I kept walking until the Pacific rose to my chest, the black silk floating around me like a dark shroud. I looked back one last time—at the house of glass, at the husband of iron, and at the man who tried to save a ghost.

“You’re just tired. Too many night shifts.” But when she turned away, something caught her eye. The tattoo on her forearm—the one she’d inked years ago, a crescent moon surrounded by swirling lines—was moving. Subtly. Like ripples beneath the skin. Her breath hitched. “No… no, no, that’s impossible.” She pressed her fingers to the mark. Warm. Alive. For a heartbeat, her vision blurred. A voice—soft, ancient, and female—whispered through her mind:

I returned to my office, made myself a cup of coffee, and waited. It didn't even take ten minutes before someone came knocking. The first to come in was, surprisingly, Layla. She clutched a USB drive so tightly her knuckles turned white. As soon as she stepped inside, she dropped to her knees. "I'm sorry, Ms. Cooper. I'm so, so sorry. I must've been out of my mind!" She cried, burying her face in one hand, while holding out the USB drive with the other. "Everything's in here—every chat log where Keira planned how to blow this up step by step and force you to give in!

A heavy and hoarse voice disturbed Marra's ears. "Ah, I'm fine. Sorry for nudging you. I was in a hurry." Marra stepped aside, but for a moment, she stopped and turned her head to watch the back of a black T-shirt that was roomy enough to hold. Its arms and neck, covered with tattoos, began to move away, disappearing among the crowd of visitors. "I feel like I've seen him before. Is this deja vu?" Marra nodded, and she continued to walk towards the other stairs. ***