Ragnar Head Tattoo Novels & Stories

He ruled the east side realm, and rumour had it that he bedded different women even after finding his mate. He was the only demon whose hair was almost as long as Kieran's, and the reason was because he once lost a battle fifty years ago. Every Wilding knew he had an unspoken rivalry with Kieran. Ragnar craved power and control, and the only reason why he hadn't declared a war on the Nightshade Pack was because he knew not to mess with Kieran. He looked menacing. Deep set eyes, with a large scar slashed across his left eye. His hair was woven into a single braid which draped over his shoulder. His arms were as thick as trees, and he carried a perpetual sneer.

I asked with tears. "You're mine." His wolf responded in a deep tone, and I knew he was on the edge of exploding. Something was wrong, and not just with Gabe, but his wolf. "What is your name? You know Scarlet, seen her, spoke to her, but I don't know you." My hand brushed through his thick brown hair. "Ragnar, sweet little wolf." He responded and my lips smiled. That was a perfect name, a strong and old name of power and loyalty.

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

I froze, it was time had stopped, my blood rushed to my ears as all the hair at the back of my hair stood as I looked up at the man in front of me. No! It can't be! "You know me right?" He asked, smirking at my reaction. Of course! How couldn't I know who he was? My stomach twisted in knots as I looked past his face and at the tattoo peeking from the side of his neck. This was the famous tattoo of anyone that belonged to The Blood Moon Pack. A wolf head soaked with blood, it's once white fur stained with the red liquid as a few drops fell from it leaving a pool just underneath it.

She hit the ground with her staff thrice, and they stopped talking. “Come,” she said to them. “Your mother and Jasper need to talk.” The kids stood up and followed her out of the room. Jasper waved goodbye and shut the door as they left, then turned to me. “Where’s Ragnar?” he asked, and I rolled my eyes. “Why does everyone keep asking me about him?” He shrugged and walked back to his seat. “Well, you’re wearing his mother’s bracelet, which I guess is a symbol of his protection, and a protective amulet with designs peculiar to the northern kingdom. I wouldn’t be surprised if he followed you here.”

rubbing my head I see a mark on my arm. Laying my arm straight and focusing on it. The mark, is not a mark its a tattoo! The tattoo of a wolf head with red eyes and extra-long knife sharp k-9's. There is a design on the wolfs forehead and behind the head that reminds me of some kind of tribal design intricately woven in what looks like hair.

That voice. Low, rich, and cold enough to slice flesh. She turned, slowly, knowing what she’d see before she even saw it. There, standing atop a rock, silhouetted against the moon like the harbinger of death, was him. Ragnar. His obsidian armor glinted faintly, wet from the rain, blood smeared on one of his gloves. His eyes glowed golden, a dangerous, hungry light that pierced right through her. He looked like a beast risen from hell.

“I am not going to go through all those troubles to just get an i/diot to sit on the throne.” “I won’t be ruling the kingdom, Lennie,” Ragnar said, “I’ve told you from the beginning. After it’s done, I will go back to the human world. I am not staying for anything. I hate it here.” “Not even for your little girlfriend?” Lennie asked. “She’s a wolf too. So I guess you hate her also?” Ragnar pressed his lips. “It’s none of your business,” he said. “And you shouldn’t have dragged her into this. She got hurt because of your engagement. And how could you brand her with a slave mark?!”

The wounds, that was from yesterday. "Did you show this to your father?" "Yes" "Why haven't you healed yet?" "I'm on punishment. Father wants the wound marks on me since I failed him again. Again Raven has shamed me" Last night, he had been brought home with his shirt dripping so much blood. Raven had cut deep when writing on his back. Carly quickly told their father everything in a rush. Mr Tartal grabbed his shirt and ripped it apart observing the writings. It was in Latin. He knew Latin. He frowned and fell with his back

As I make my way down his neck and to his collar bone with my lips, a glimps of a tattoo that moves down his back catches my attention. Rin turns to the left to look at the place that is currently holding my interest before his gaze rises to meet my eyes. “I have a tattoo of a dragon that runs along my back.” His husky voice relays to me just as he lifts himself so he can capture my lips with his own, his fingers digging in to tangle with my curly locks.