Owl Tattoos For Men Novels & Stories

Run first, cry later. “So it’s true then…” a man to my left looks down at me, his eyes almost the same color as his outfit. He is completely dressed in gold, with a jewel encrusted owl shaped mask on. The only differentiating color is his hair, where one perfect brown curl is hanging over his forehead. “... You don’t have a wolf, officially, yet.” Trent dips the floozy, his hand sliding dangerously high on her thigh when this man’s voice becomes all that stands between me and destroying her. “Perhaps I could be persuaded to fill you in.” And perhaps I would end up dead. If I am going to die, I’ll destroy that floozy first.

Alpha Wulfrun added albeit solemnly. Like the rest of the men in the pack, he also was big, tall, and muscular. He had ocean-blue eyes with a ring of glowing grey around his irises and grew a beard that was braided like his long hair. Unlike the other pack members that looked more like the really buffed versions of Native American men, he looked more like a Viking warrior and it was evident from the base of his neck and his arms that his entire torso was inked. Cole thought the two alphas like Xavier carried an aura of someone powerful and to be feared.

Kai hissed, eyeing the surrounding people. The doors to the Gallery burst open and four people rushed in. Three women and one man. The man wore a satchel across his shoulder. He's an elderly man with faded warrior tattoos, but the Gold tattoos on his hands that signifies him as a healer were still shining brightly as if he just got them painted.

I tell her, “ My husband and I are greatly appreciative. I was just wondering about the tattoos on these men. Do you have any idea what they mean?” “I was wondering that too,” Robin answers, “I was trying not to be obvious about staring at them. It looked to me like a half moon in a circle, with a line drawn through it. I’m so sorry, but I have no idea what it means.” As she says this, there is a gasp from somewhere in the crowd. Levi and I look at each other, and he shrugs. A male shifter with shoulder length auburn hair, who appears to be somewhere in his mid-thirties, raises his hand, and Levi beckons him forward.

I half-heartedly acknowledge the older man who's been my brooding seatmate ever since we boarded the plane. Shifting my sitting position to put a little distance between us I stare at him through the corner of my eyes, for something about the older man puts me on edge. He has wrinkly ivory skin with neutral undertones and a slightly crooked nose, his eyes are a startling shade of forest green and his lips are a little wide in shape. He’s wearing a large black coat and when he raises his left hand to run it through his hair an eye-catching tattoo appears, it’s a dragon tattoo coiled around his wrist.