Merlins Tattoo Novels & Stories

Esmeray held her forearm up, examining the intricate tattoo that adorned her skin. The tattoo depicted a majestic wolf, its eyes fierce and determined, surrounded by swirling patterns that seemed to dance with a life of their own. The lines were bold and precise, giving the impression of strength and resilience. “This tattoo is so unique,” Esmeray remarked, tracing her fingers over the contours of the design. “I’ve always felt a connection to it, but I never knew why.”

Rex groaned, squirming to get the skylark off him. “Seeing the skylark like this with you, I believe it has bonded with you, but to be sure it would mark you both, like Ulna here” Marcia said, putting her hand out and Ulna raised her leg, showing a symbol with three lines seemingly scarred on her leg, “I have the same matching mark” she continued, lifting up her shirt to just under her breast showing the same symbol etched on her ribs. Trying his best to focus on the symbol and not her exposed skin, Rex nodded, swallowing, “So that skylark and I would share the same symbol?”

" Yes of course." " Okay, get ready cause is long..." He said why putting down his food. " Okay firstly, I have one on my chest a wing tattoo which signifies liberty for me. On my forearm, the word GO is written in capital letters cause I love traveling. On my right bicep a big moon representing darkness, on my thorax a rose surrounded with thorns representing the lovely but difficult relationship with my mom. Here,( showing me his left hand) three birds on the back of my left hand representing freedom of choice. On my left-right arm my name written in Chinese, this one, I have done it in Japan during one of my trips. On my left palm a roaring lion representing power. On my right middle fing

“The Raven. Known as the harbinger of death. Marked in her rebirth, granting ultimate authority within her title. And yet, in all her glory, eventually came to a slow, excruciating end. One where she, despite her best efforts, was unable to prevent the death of our lineage.” “…No…,” I whispered. But she was right. I could keep lying to myself, keep refusing to look… but there was certainly more than just a raven tattoo there…. It was almost like… bite marks. Semi-circles littering my skin, overlapping in their design to the point where it was almost impossible to make out what they were. …Unless you knew. Unless you knew exactly what you were looking at. And if someone is marked with a doubl

“We’d better get this back into - ” He started to pull the door closed but Talen stalled him, catching him by the arm. “Not quite yet,” he told him and opened a bag that was strapped across his body pulling out two cans of spray paint and a piece of paper. “These sigils are the Mer tongue, and we need to paint them on the outside of the warehouse. Delwyn did this on the hospital, and the Mer are treating it as a sacred place. We’re hoping it will work here too.” “Who doesn’t like a bit of graffiti in the evening?” Rhett grabbed a can, and the two stepped out.

She could never have imagined that the brushes in front of her had been intended for guests. When the fog faded from the mirror, she opened her eyes and swore at her reflection. She could see the red and purple marks of the hickeys he had given her on her chest and neck. Then she put a trembling hand at the base of her neck. A kind of black tattoo had taken shape there. Three parts stood out. At the top stands the head of a black wolf baring its fangs. Then, behind the head of the animal, a crescent moon was drawn. And finally, just under the wolf's mouth, two elegantly intertwined letters: M.B.

Katherine pov For me, the sexiest spot a tattoo can be found is on a man’s rib and of course his fingers. I’ve heard a number of time how painful getting one on those spots can be, maybe that’s why I find it sexy. But is that why I can’t tear my eyes off this hot dude across this counter as well?

There, stark against his skin, was a tattoo. A complex, intricate design of two family crests intertwined—the Moretti lion and the Castellano eagle, forever wrapped around each other. He got it on our wedding day. He said it represented the eternal alliance of our families, and our eternal vows to each other. “Aurora,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “Do you remember this tattoo?” The cold night wind blew past, whipping a strand of hair across my face. I looked at the tattoo in silence. After a long moment, I reached out.

I cock an eyebrow, only for him to point at the tattoo on my chest. Every male wolf gets branded with their house sigil on their thirteenth birthday. It’s not just a rite of passage. It can turn from red to black, when we first touch our fated partners. Female wolves get theirs on the wrist on their eighteenth birthday, to make sure they remain pure. My tattoo is a raven above crossed swords, the sigil of the Medeiros House. And right now, it’s burning black, like a burst of smoke on my skin.

A flicker of something, annoyance, maybe amusement, passes through his eyes. “I’ve noticed.” I hold his gaze for a second longer than I should, refusing to be the first to look away. But then my eyes betray me, drifting to his chest again, and that’s when I see it. Everything inside me goes still. There’s a tattoo over his heart. Black ink etched into his skin in exquisite detail. A bird in mid-flight with its wings spread wide and feathers so realistic I could swear they’re moving. A raven. My breath catches in my throat. My hand lifts out of the water without conscious thought. Trembling. Reaching for him like I’m drawn by invisible strings.