Risk Taker Tattoo Novels & Stories

So we killed more than one person who was involved with the Damned Forsaken. Now I have a Ravager's tattoo of a skull with a zombie raven atop of it wearing a crown, a pistol leaning against the blood-splattered skull. The zombie raven is for the Ravager while the skull with the pistol was my Damned Forsaken tattoo, and the crown is for the Death Kings. I put my spin on it so that it’s unique and easily identifiable as a crew tattoo. I didn’t mind letting the man who trained Lachlan be the one to do the work. Plus that Drogo is a Death King and the Vice President for the Death Riders MC.

They feel threatened enough to hire assassins and put millions of dollars on our heads, which has been ultimately fruitless. Until now. “That tattoo on the back of your neck is a dead giveaway to your true identity, rogue.” She kept her voice low but the venom in her words cannot be mistaken. My body stiffened. She was right. All elite warriors of the Black Moon Pack are given the same tattoo mark, but we were given freedom to choose where it’s going to be. I had it tattooed on the back of my neck, while Pixie had hers above her left breast. “Talk.” She growled, pressing the tip directly onto my forehead, making my wolf perk up in full alert.

Her eyes were red and puffy as she covered her face. "Raine, don't do anything stupid." Charlie reached for her, and as she moved, a tattoo peeked out from her collar—a sleek arrow with a bold C inked into it. Something clicked. Charlie had a similar tattoo on his chest, a Cupid-like design. When I asked about it, he brushed it off. Just for fun, he'd said. He always swore Raine was like a sister.

“Never going to happen.” Just as I’m about to turn away, Raquel grabs me by the upper arm. My shirt’s sleeve rides up an inch, exposing the bottom portion of my old tattoo. She frowns, a flicker of recognition flashing across her eyes. She doesn’t let me escape, moving so swiftly that I have no time to react. She pushes my sleeve up to expose the entire composition: a raven with red feathers and an arrow in its black beak. Her mouth falls open. “You’re a Red Raven.”

As she unbuttoned his shirt, she noticed the tattoo of a horse on his neck which was mostly concealed by his shirt. "This is one of Christopher Stallion's men," she said. "What?" "Look at him," she said, pointing to the tattoo. "That is impossible," the governor incredulously. "My men are all trusted men." "But he has the tattoo of a horse on his neck. It would interest you to know that Stallion has a similar tattoo, and so does every member of his gang. Do you doubt it? I have a tattoo of a scorpion on my back because I am a Black Scorpion. All the members of the gangs have tattoos on their bodies."

Between them, in elegant black script, sat the tattoo: CW His striking glassy gray eyes darkened as he stared. “There’s another one,” I said, voice turning low and teasing. “On my hip bone. Want to see that too?” He nodded once. I stood, unzipped the prison trousers, and nudged them down just enough to reveal the smooth skin of my hip. The second tattoo read CROWE in the same beautiful lettering, right above the delicate line of my v-cut. “I can’t see it properly,” Ryker murmured, his voice dropping. “Come closer.”

The boys quickly formed a defense stance behind each other giving me the chance to look at the source of such a strong voice. The tattooed stranger! “And who are you to tell us that?” The leading guy asked, his voice hard unlike that of a teenager he is. “Someone who can break your bones and dumb them in a police cell if you don’t leave this minute” he threatened It’s highly unhealthy how his strong command makes my painties wet in the face of danger. I must be going crazy.. The boys ran away in a matter of seconds leaving just the two of us in the area. “Uhhhm…. Thanks” I managed to say

He preferred it that way. Beta Remus entered the hall and sniffed appreciatively. His black eagle tattoo peeked out from the collar of his shirt. In a pinch, he could release the inky bird and it would take flight, providing reconnaissance from above. Each pack member's tattoo, received upon turning sixteen, transformed into a unique animal providing a unique gift. Only one wolf could claim each creature.

He holds his hands up and backs off. Lola pouts. “Being a girl suck sometimes.” Ryland strips down right in front of me. My gaze lingers on his bare chest. I swallow hard—he’s stunning. The tattoo etched on his stomach catches my eye, pulling my focus away from his sculpted body. It reads ‘Keep fighting.’ Words have never hit me quite as hard as those ones tattooed on his skin. I wonder why those words. What is the meaning behind them? I finally lift my head and look at his face.

He turns to the bartender who came over as soon as he saw us "Get her some girly shit. Light. I'll take whiskey on the rocks" "Hey" "You're not getting drunk on my watch" I'm about to protest when he shows me the tattoo between his index and middle finger. He's trying to distract me but I'll fall for it because I'm curious "It's our tattoo. Only high-ranking members get it. Your father, Angelo, us, and a few guys have it"