Phoenix Sternum Tattoo Novels & Stories

The light scattering of hair on his lower abdomen disappeared into the towel and the only thing marring the beauty of his skin was the angry red mark on his chest, just a few inches away from his heart where he had been shot yesterday. Now that he was finally unclothed, I was able to see the tattoo on his left arm. It was a picture of a phoenix in flight and it was magnificent. The artist had focused on every tiny detail down to the red eye of the phoenix and somehow, it suited him. He was just as majestic as the bird.

He didn't seem to notice my little show though, but his gaze often settled on me. We finally settled on a design; a beautiful, delicate tattoo of a phoenix feather that curled and twisted into the shape of a blooming rose. It was perfect. The phoenix, a symbol of rebirth and transformation, and the rose, a symbol of beauty and growth. "It’s beautiful," I breathed, my eyes wide. "I love it." He smiled. "Good. Now, where do you want it? The location is important. It can make or break the design." I had no idea. "Where's the least painful area?" I asked sheepishly.

He trailed off, his eyes darkening slightly. The conversation paused as I glanced at Bryon. He is very easygoing, and with a perpetual smirk that made it hard to take him seriously sometimes. But now, my gaze caught on the large phoenix tattoo that stretched across the left side of his chest. Wow I blinked. I haven’t seen Bryon shirtless before, but he didn’t seem like the type to have a tattoo, let alone one so big. It was a large phoenix, and the drawing was detailed, its wings stretched as if mid-flight with orange flames licking at its tail feathers.

And yet. "S-Stop this..." she panted. Zalakai's eyes narrowed as he looked her over again. Scars covered her body, but not as dark as the ones on her back. She had said nothing else about admitting her "Father" was the one to cause her harm. He couldn't recall anything about her parents. He knew she was an orphan at a young age, but nothing else from that. Tattoos covered her arms, her chest, her sternum and her neck. Tribal. Old traditional tattoos decorated her throat. Tribal lined her collarbone and sternum. Both of her arms were full of water colored art with what appeared to have proverbs quoted in spots. Her ribs were also inked. Her right side was with a Phoenix and the left side with

I told him. His hands were cool and it felt wonderful on my heated skin. He lifted his hand after a few seconds, making me miss his touch almost instantly…but then his fingers were on my skin, tracing the lines of the phoenix along my spine. The mark was right at the centre of my back right in between my shoulder blades. It wasn’t a big mark, in total, it was about two inches in width, but my grapy always told me it was a very detailed mark, like the wings and even the tail of the bird was very defined and prominent, more like a tattoo than a birthmark.

The once beautiful canvas of his phoenix tattoo is now topped with another set of prints that aren’t part of the art I admired. With blurry eyes, I tumbled out of bed and kneeled between his legs. There, a heartbreaking sight of bullet and knife scars met my gaze. On his right chest, the Outlaws’ insignia was marked with an X. I’m sure a knife did it from the smooth edge of the scar. And on his left side were two bullet wounds, barely missing his liver. But below his left breast, the words ‘corazón para la muñeca’ were written in cursive writing. [heart for the doll]

He turned to get his clothes from the dresser and froze. Bianca was asleep on the bed, and his new roommate slept in the nude. She was on her side, back to him. Her ass was as perfectly shapely as he'd thought last night, but her back... that was the real shocker. Her entire back was covered in a tattoo. Starting just below her waist were flames rising up, above her left buttock was a cathedral in flames, above the right a forest ablaze both images rising up almost to her ribs. Between them was a Phoenix rising from the ashes, its wings outstretched running up to her shoulder blades, its head was looking to the left, body wreathed in the flames that were consuming the forest and cathedral. H

He was wearing nothing but a towel slung loosely around his hips. “Good morning, Robyn. You are up bright and early!” He flashed me a sexy smile, which I didn’t return. He was entirely too cheerful. I may have been awake at six in the morning, but I wasn’t friendly. Phoenix’s bulky body blocked my path to the bathroom, so I had no choice but to look at him. He was jacked, with big, bulgy muscles and a perfectly hairless chest. He had the same gothic angel of death tattoo as his brother, but his was situated over his chest. Noticing where my eyes had landed, he flexed his pectoral muscles and grinned.

It burned so much that Maggie raised her hand to her lips to blow and she paused in shock. Noah stood watching helplessly and as the three of them watched Phoenix’s emblem, the intricate circular design of swirling lines and a rising Phoenix with a wolf beneath its rising feet appeared at the center of their palms.

I gasped when the mark appeared as a tattoo not dots from my fangs. “Damon, the mark, it’s a phoenix.” “It is a representation of your spirit. Not all fae have one.” “Do I have the same on my neck?” “Yes.” I almost fell from him, in my rush to the mirror. There was a dragon.