Moon Dreamcatcher Tattoo Novels & Stories

I twist a little to the side so I can see it clearly—the mark. It's truly red, like a bold, fearless tattoo shaped like a sun with sharp pointed rays stretching out in all directions. At the center, there is a large crescent moon cradling a five-pointed star, as if the crescent moon is protecting the star. Around the moon and star, there are small dots growing bigger with each next dot, and below the crescent moon, there is a bigger dot and even more dots that trail down in a straight line, leading into two sharp triangles pointing downwards. How did this mark end up on my body?

Maranda had gathered the necessary ingredients, and the pack's strongest alphas, including Brian and Reed, were ready to lend their strength. As the moon reached its zenith, casting an ethereal glow over the clearing, Maranda began the ritual. Marinetta stood in the center of a circle of alphas, their combined energy swirling around her. She closed her eyes, focusing on the connection she felt with the moon goddess and the spirits of the wild. Maranda chanted ancient words, and Marinetta felt a surge of power coursing through her. She could hear the whispers of the spirits, feel the guidance of the moon goddess. The ritual was intense, but Marinetta held firm, drawing strength from the suppo

“When did you leave?” “I don’t know. It was getting late.” “Was anyone with you?” “I was.” Alec stepped forward. “She finished my back.” “Know anyone who would do this?” The detective asked. “No.” Then it hit me. It was an abstract moon. A midnight moon. As in the Midnight Moon Pack. Darin. “No...” I said as I took a step back in shock. “What was that?” The detective asked. “Colt. It was the Midnight Moon Pack. Look at the ink. It’s their logo.” I mind-linked Colt. He looked at it and frowned.

A student taps the banner in passing, and it rolls over to reveal the words inscribed on it: GREYSTONE’S HIGH WINTER FORMAL IS HERE: A Night Under The Stars. It's such a cliche tagline. And yet, it stirs a warm feeling in my stomach. Like a blast from the past, the memory of watching the stars past midnight tugs a smile on my lips. Mr Miller’s Calc equations breeze past me as I take another glance at the banner. The thought of reenacting a night of stargazing with her builds up heat in my chest, drowning out every thought of the Lycan. Slowly, a coy plan forms in my mind.

It was as if she was meant to be by his side. She did not know how to explain it better than that. But she knew that she was not here for anything else than begging the guy for mercy. “Thank you all for being here tonight. The moon festival is a time for joy and celebration. It’s a time to give thanks and adoration to the Moon goddess. It is a time for those who don’t have mates to find their partners. It is a time for the light of the moon to wash us clean from our sins and make us new again. Tonight, we celebrate! Tonight, we become one as a pack! Tonight, we live!” He exclaimed, and everyone cheered at the top of their lungs.

Lena had always hated full moons. Not in a dramatic, horror-movie way. Nothing that obvious. It was quieter than that. A restless hum under her skin. Nights where sleep never came easy and every sound outside her window felt personal, like the dark was aware of her. Tonight, the moon wasn’t silver. It was red. She stood barefoot on the back porch of her rental house at the edge of town, arms folded tight against the chill. The woods behind her stretched deep and black, the treetops glowing faintly under the strange crimson light.

I stare at it in confusion, a dull ache pulsing beneath my skin. A moment later, silver-blue light flares on my skin and then fades, leaving a delicate tattoo. A moon cradling a tiny star, and around it, ancient rune writing. It looks like a birthmark. I hear Kingston groan, and when I turn to meet his gaze, I find him staring at his wrist. He smiles, the same mark appears on his wrist, identical to mine, and when he smooths his hand over it, mine flares, glowing. “The heart has chosen,” Elder Winston announces. “We have a true Luna, the first Mooncrest has seen in over three hundred years. All hail the Luna.”

Jumping out of bed, I didn’t realize I had verbalized this as Jared laughed getting out of bed much slower than me and follows behind me. As I look at my mark, tears well up in my eyes. It is two wolves wrapped around one another. That is a symbol for a true mating and one the Moon Goddess has great expectations of. As I look at Jared’s mark, his matches mine accordingly. Pulling him in to a tight hug I enjoy the moment. Our future looks so bright and promising.

It’s rare that I dress up. As I stared into the mirror, barely recognizing myself, I realized I am the spitting image of my mother. I have every one of her features. I twirled around to get the full effect of my dress. It’s long and puffy like a princess, with no straps and a low back that shows the one tattoo I could get even though my father was covered in them and every male pack member. The tattoo represented my human, wolf, and witch. It’s the moon, earth, and a ball of magic intertwined into a triangle. It reminded me of the greatness I can become and will hope to one day achieve.

The moon comes out, big and round, balanced just above the horizon. Efa bends over so her chin is resting on the top of my head and grabs my flushed cheeks. I gently turn from left to right so she can take it all in, gasping as a pattern appears before my eye. The tattoo is a map of the camp. I needed to watch the pack disperse from a higher vantage point to recognize it, but I can’t unsee it now. The fires match the starburst shapes. The dens are the jagged triangles. The swoops and spirals are the worn paths the pack takes as they settled themselves in their accustomed places.