Nordic Compass Tattoo Novels & Stories

The next morning, the pirates had already woken up. Igor was orienting himself using the compass and the map. To reach the other islands rich in treasure would take a long time, months and months. Two days passed. The pirates were all bare-chested, as it was very hot. Igor had tied a scarf around his head, had an earring in his left ear, was bare-chested, showing off his two tattoos. He had two tattoos, a scorpion tattoo on the right side of his abdomen and another huge Triquetran tattoo on the left side of his shoulder blade. Kataleya could barely take her eyes off him, she appreciated his tattoos, his fair skin, half pink in the sun, his thin lips, his black eyes and his smile. She liked s

Rowan glanced at her and noticed her gaze fixed on the small, thin tattoo on her ankle. Nora wore a pair of knee-length wide-leg shorts and low-cut white sneakers, revealing the slender tattoo on her ankle. From a distance, it was difficult to discern what it represented, but upon closer inspection, it was a delicate "f". It was mainly to represent the word ‘forget’. Rowan had suggested she get the tattoo. Perhaps artists and designers tended to have a more unconventional and distinctive taste. Otherwise, given her personality, she would never have considered getting a tattoo.

What she said was still ringing in my head. He had a tattoo of a crest on his back and another of three spades on the skin at his lower back directly above his left butt cheek. I was never into bad boys. I didn't like their vibe or the energy around them. I could live with a bike or a small tattoo but not the ones Jane described or the piercing in his left nipple. I mean, who in their right mind pierces their nipple? I couldn't fathom how someone as sweet, good, and adorable as Nancy could have a grandkid like that.

Marcus continued slowly. “He said when she handed him candy, her wrist was exposed for a moment. On it was a very unusual tattoo.” Marcus took out another photo. It was a child’s drawing. A twisted pumpkin face, its mouth split all the way to the ears, its eyes hollow spirals. “This kind of gothic-style tattoo… a lot of people have them…” My voice grew quieter and quieter. Marcus said nothing. He simply placed a third photo in the center of the table. The background was a beach and the open sea.

"Oh Alpha, haven't no one taught you manners? You should never talk about girls and their food." "Manners? Are you really talking about manners, Elyn Frost? You are the most rude, impertinent, mannerless-" "Blah, blah, blah, Alpha," I snorted, and he shook his head, still lying like a damn rock on the bed, leisurely studying me like I was an art piece in an exhibition. "You love the compass?" His eyes were on the compass I wore around my neck. "It is the only precious thing I own. But this..." I showed him my arms, where the compass was tattooed in multicolored ink. "This isn't the only tattoo I have." I said with a smirk as I popped two buttons on my shirt and slid it down slightly.

His finger strokes down my neck and over the tattoo. “So, why this?” Jax’s words are whispered into my ear. “That night of the hunt, I mentioned that it was a pity it wouldn’t scar. I liked the idea of having something permanent on me to show I belonged to you. Then I remembered the bite and thought that would be perfect.” It was perfect at that moment. “And the symbol?” I smile. “If you look close enough, it’s the letters D, B, J, and C combined.” I feel him shift, and he exhales heavily.

I felt stronger. A car pulled into the lot—not the beat-up sedan from last night, but a different vehicle. Njord got out. “Arthur,” he said, walking toward us with a slight limp. “Good to see you on your feet.” “Good to see you too.” I reached out to shake his hand. Our palms met. That’s when I saw it. On the inside of his wrist, partially hidden by his sleeve but visible when our hands clasped—a tattoo. A pig’s head, rendered in black ink. I froze.

All I knew was that she looked brilliant. "The tattoo is a symbol of the people under north's successful conquest." Adler covered his wrist again and began pacing the length of his cell. He hesitated, clearly weighing how much he would tell today and think of how long he could drag this out. I noticed the tattoo immediately—the same symbol burned into memory from the lab. My blood ran cold. "I don't see why you've waited this long to ask." "I didn't want to kill you," Nyx said. That stopped him.