Novel & Cerita Momma Bear Tattoos

His bare chest gleams in the moonlight. For the first time, I'm able to get a good look at the tattoo on his bicep. I reach out and touch it. It's done entirely in black ink, and when I tilt my head, I can just make out the swirling letters. "Mona Catherine," I read. "My mom." He gives a sad smile. "I know it's cheesy. At least I managed to talk myself out of putting her name in a heart." "I think it's beautiful." I trace the ink with my finger. "Is this the only one you have?"

Both of them looked at me like I was insane. "First, he can tattoo? Second, you let him put his family crest on you? Damn girl." Becky laughed. I rolled my eyes. "Obviously. And well, it seemed fair. He let me tattoo him. The same spot, but his is a lotus flower sitting on a crescent moon with the five moon phases under it." I shrugged. "Wow. So you two are next level in this relationship. It's that serious." Becky whistled.

My dad’s face became clenched tight as his eyes stared straight at what Beau was showing them. It was the children of Gaia symbol, and for the life of me, I didn’t understand how Beau now also had it scarred into the palm of his hand. Our members all got the children of Gaia symbol tattooed against their shoulders once they were eighteen, Beau had his symbol tattooed on his right shoulder as was our custom.

my Grammy begins to gush. “All in good time mother, there’s no rush. Wait until we have our tea, enjoy the walk for now,” my Mama tells her. Looking at my Mama’s neck, I see that my Grammy was right. Her mark is lilac and silver and holds three lilac wolves standing over a silver wolf within the moon. The Moon Goddess has blessed this bond. The three wolves I assume represent my Mama, Reece and Jack. While the silver wolf will represent my father, all these paths collided because of his sacrifice.

Jaxon chuckled and pulled her impossibly closer to him. “You could always get one when you choose to though I would not be pleased with another person marking your skin.” “Stupid Neanderthal, it isn’t any type of possessive marking.” She said with a small laugh. “and anyway, I can’t get one because my moth—” she stopped midway and memories of her mother telling her that she should never come back with wild piercings and tattoos or else she would be well acquainted with the front porch and dumpster.

I look for a way out and remember Sawyer's tattoo. "Mum I will tell you about it later but I just want to tell you that I saw Sawyer's tattoo." Her gaze sinks. "What is it?" I was disappointed at her reaction. Wasn't she the one who told me to find out? I told her anyways. "It's like the moon with the sun and it covers from his shoulder to the arm. There are other images but the clearest is what I have told you." I see my mother's face turn pale at this information. "Was he the same person?" I ask, hoping for a negative answer.

Then, like a flash of light, a memory flashed in my eyes. On Ryker’s chest, there was a tattoo of a little bear on it. While most of his tattoos were indecipherable, I had been able to point that out because it had looked funny and out of place when I first saw it. Was he the snuggle bear? If he was, did that mean the writer of the text was his mother? The thought surprised me because I just then realized that I never knew anything about his mother. Nobody ever mentioned it. It was almost like she never existed.

The tattoo on my chest—a northern star—seemed to pulse in sync with my heartbeat, thrumming with the same energy I felt when I marked her. It was as if I had released some ancient magic the night before. My bear was at ease, basking in this newfound connection, its growls echoing deep within me, resonating with a happiness that felt like jumping into an icy lake followed immediately by the warmth of a bonfire. I had never experienced a night like that before, not in all my years wandering through life, bleary-eyed and weighed down by reality.

Iris's POV: It’s all my fault. If I hadn’t touched his tattoos, none of this would have happened. I knew the moment my fingers brushed against his skin that I had made a mistake. A deep, gut-twisting kind of mistake. But God— did you see his body? Carved like stone, muscle taut beneath intricate ink. And yet, despite the awe, I was terrified. My mother once told me those marks were a disease. A corruption that spread through the body whenever we sinned, growing darker with age.

He rolls up his sleeve, revealing the intricate black tattoos that cover both of his forearms in geometric lines. "These aren't just for show," he says, returning his hands to the wheel. "They're talismans, protection wards and spellbreakers. My mom was a witch before she mated into the pack. She inked them herself when I was eighteen. She said if I was going to stand next to an alpha like Azren, I needed every advantage I could get." I can't take my eyes off the tattoos. "They block most mental magic," he continues softly. "Illusions, memory twists, and suggestion spells. Sabrina's glamour works on almost everyone because it isn't subtle, it's heavily layered. But these?"