Meliodas Demon Mark Tattoo Novels & Stories

“No.” He attacked. Not with a wild lunge, but with a swift, controlled strike meant to disarm, not kill. I ducked, the shard in my satchel thumping against my ribs. The movement brought me closer to him than I intended. As I twisted away, the collar of the rough leather vest he wore shifted. There, on the side of his neck, just above the thick muscle, was a tattoo. Small, intricate, but unmistakable. A black raven in flight, its wings spread—the exact symbol on the bloodied badge in my pocket. The mark of Damon’s pack.

"He told me they weren't there to kill me. And he had this mark." Selene’s brow furrowed. "Like a scar?" "No, a tattoo," I said, shaking my head. "Black ink. It was a wolf’s head with a circle and a triangle around it." Selene pressed a finger to her lip, her frown deepening. "When we get to the Anatolikos packhouse, can you draw it for me?" "I think so." I reached up, my fingers brushing the metal pendant at the base of my neck. The tattoo looked almost exactly like the second charm on my necklace, just with a wolf added.

He studied her expression before asking, “What do you want?” “A lot.” Azrael answered and jumped from the stairs, “You can give me a few.” she pointed to the Mark under his scapula, it looked like a simple tattoo if you wouldn’t stare into it, but in reality, it looks like a fresh burn Mark made by blacksmiths as it actually glows and burns, “Do you know any other celestials that live among humans?”

“I am not afraid anymore. Send me to the dungeons. Exile me or whatever. But your bloodline ends with you.” The cruel mocking smile didn’t deter me. Without moving my eyes away from her, I addressed Vladimir. “Mind-link Sam and ask him to bring the pack guards. Take Moira and her entire family and throw them in the dungeons. Let the feral wolves loose.” Moira’s bravado faltered. She knew what was coming. Once Sam arrived, Vladimir and I stormed out from there. “Let’s go meet Dad,” I murmured. Vladimir hummed.

Dante has another tattoo that consumes his whole back and that tattoo is of the night sky, a full moon, and the planets in their rotation around the full moon, the color work on the planets almost makes them seem life-like. Dante closed the distance in the shower between us in about half a stride, “Penny for your thoughts?” “You need to eat more.” I said as I poked his hip bones. Dante chuckled as he leaned into me and kissed his mark right above my breast. A small moan left my mouth, he kissed his mark again, this time he bit me softly, as his hand trailed up my thigh, to my stomach, to my breast. I felt my body react to his touch, my nipples hardened, my core wettened itself. Dante inhaled

But, I had my pack’s oath to fulfil. Damon heads to his desk, swiping his phone off his table and thumbing at it, a smirk on his face. If I didn’t know better I’ll think he did all these – cornering Tae when he’d invited me to his office, just to get a reaction out of me. “Stick to the fucking plan, Cardenas, then maybe we can all get what we want.” I don’t wait for him to reply and walk out, my mind stuck on the scene I’d walked into earlier. My fist tightens, my thoughts a swirling mess of vengeful images. Things I should’ve done to Damon for touching him. For kissing Tae. Mine.

The basement felt warmer, the concrete cooler beneath her bare feet. She whispered the words she knew he liked to hear, voice hoarse from the cries. “Emma is yours. Daddy’s Property. All three of them.” Mark smiled, slow and certain, his hand sliding down to rub the fresh tattoo gently. “Every single day. The mark is only temporary, but you… you’re permanent. And I’m going to keep breeding you until it feels permanent too.” The futon creaked beneath them as the night stretched on, the new ink glowing softly and the basement waiting for whatever came next.

Being claimed by an Alpha of his strength while my body was already weakened by the heat had left me more sore than I wanted to admit. As I stood there in the dim light of the corridor, my mind involuntarily flashed back to the first time I’d gone to Damon’s room for help. I remembered the ink on his skin. It had been mesmerizing—thorny vines wrapping around his neck, dark symbols on his forearms. But it was his back that haunted me. He had skeletal wings tattooed across his shoulder blades, intricate and macabre. And right down his spine, there was a line of cursive script. I hadn't been able to read it then, but the image of it was burned into my mind.

he said. “The moon chose me for its own hunger,” I answered, lifting my burning wrist as the second symbol continued carving itself into my skin. “But my mercy mark was given before your throne learned my name.” The gold mark flared, pushing against the black and silver brand, and every chained child in the chamber gasped as if air had returned to them. Then a new voice echoed from the blood smoke. Not Maelor’s. Not the moon’s. Adolphus appeared above the old throne, golden eye blazing with satisfaction as he studied the second symbol forming beside Rudina’s mark.

The hoodie draped loosely over his head, obscuring his face, but the flicker of city lights occasionally illuminated the sharp lines of his jaw and the hints of a sinister smirk playing on his lips. The wind picked up, a fierce breeze whipping across the rooftop and causing the hood to flutter. As the fabric shifted, it revealed a chiseled, muscular torso adorned with intricate tattoos, each line telling a story of violence, power, and mystery. Prominently displayed on the left side of his chest was a large, bold tattoo—the words *Nosce Hostem* inked in a jagged, menacing script that seemed almost to pulse with life against his skin. The tattoo, a clear message, spoke of a deep connection to