Roman Numeral Tattoos Novels & Stories

She was shy away and hid her in my chest. I placed her in a hot shower, pressing her back to me and kissed her neck. I was stunned when I opened my eyes. There was an old Italian tribal tattoo on her neck. What is it doing here? It was an arrow design with a crown holding double letter A. It was a symbol of the deity of death.

I blush realizing he is talking about my mark from Freya, as Osric pats my back with a nod. “It’s good to see you and Liliana happy with Freya, she is good for you two,” Osric softly speaks as he rocks Roan, pouring himself some whiskey. “It’s good to feel the bond being so complete, I can’t imagine how you and Embry dealt with not having Raven at first, and missing Jonathan. What is Raven getting tattooed?” I question while downing my tumbler of whiskey, and Osric smirks. “It was hard being patient and waiting for them, but it is always worth the wait. She is getting a red raven done out of Viking knots in honor of our victory against Orin,” Osric answers, making me nod as it sounds like a

The door just slams open, and Roman's face comes to view. Today he is putting on a black tuxedo, which accentuates his large biceps, and ripping muscles. Underneath laid a white shirt which is half unbuttoned always, exposing the pretty baby hand tattoo that rest on his left breast. His midnight black hair, as always is made into a smooth bun at the center of his head. His perfume, intoxicating as always. It's manly yet soft like that of a baby coupled with the scent of burning eucalyptus leaves.

I bow my head, pretend to focus on the screen. "You were staring," he says in a low, amused voice. He leans against my desk, arms crossed, towering over me. "My tattoos interest you?" I shake my head, too quickly. "No, I… it's nothing." He chuckles softly. "Liar." He pulls up the left sleeve of his t‑shirt, revealing more of the raven and other symbols: a miniature cathedral, eight‑pointed stars, Cyrillic numbers. "Every design has a story. The raven… it's for memory. For those we've lost, but never forget. The stars are rank. The cathedral… the faith you keep even when everything else goes to hell."

Kieran’s POV: That tattoo, it was something that I had never seen before. I paused at the fact that it was my name. Even though it was disguised, I knew. The tattoo was a minimalist crown sharp and angular, unlike any royal insignia I had ever seen. Below it, a date. A subtle set of Roman numerals, the same day he got appointed as my guard and below that, in small, precise script barely larger than a whisper: "Even if it ruins me."

Nikolai is a god among men, and I am fortunate to be embraced by his presence. Nikolai’s tattoos are sexy, and I find myself unable to resist tracing them with my finger. The stars inked on both his shoulders catch my attention, making me curious about their meaning. However, it’s the eagle tattooed on his chest that truly captivates me. The majestic bird exudes power and strength, its wings spread wide as if poised for flight. The intricate details of the tattoo come alive on his skin, and I can’t help but admire its beauty. The eagle symbolizes freedom, and in that moment, I feel as if I am soaring alongside it.

I lowered my shirt as we walked out of the shop and reached the car. “Are you going to explain it to me?” “The rose is both beautiful and strong, a protector of kind with its thorns. The two names are Alexis and Megan on either side. Alexis means protector and Megan means mighty. It’s a personal tattoo.” “That’s more than just personal. I like it.” Milo looked contemplative for a minute. “Yeah and the wording is in Sumerian.” He nodded his head at my explanation and then grinned at me. “I take it the Sumerian is so that Maya can’t read the names.”

Her eyes were blue colored and she had full kissable lips she painted over with some clear lip gloss. She had a large watercolor tattoo of a Phoenix on her left side in red orange and many other colors. On her thigh was a watercolor tattoo of a wolf howling to the moon. What bothered her the most was the three most personal tattoos she had. One was on her right forearm it was a watercolor tattoo of a Celtic Love knot the read “Love is real”, Rhys has the same one that read “Real is Love”. Another one was the was of their fingerprints that came together and formed the shape of an heart, Rhys also had the same thing. And the last was the obvious one, It was and eternal love tattoo right above

“It hurts! What the hell is this?” “It’s a mark,” Roman says, his words coming out in a rush. “The mark of a Werewolf. Like the one tattooed on my back. The insignia of my House. It burns black when you find your mate, just like how mine did when I found you. She-wolves get the tattoos at eighteen, and they….” He trails off. An image gets solidified on my arm. Clear as day. A six-pointed star. “What does this mean?” My eyes are still stinging with tears because of the pain. “What does any of this mean?”

I walked through its doors, down a seemingly endless aisle lined with the royal advisors, the guard—including Jordan—and the royal family, who stood closest to the reverend at the steps. I stopped at the base of the steps while the reverend recited ancient words. Then I knelt as he descended to me, continuing the incantation until the needle touched my skin. It was just like any other tattoo—the sting of a needle striking again and again into the flesh of my neck. I already knew what it would be: I had seen the crest many times before. A black shield edged in crimson, crowned with silver and obsidian points shaped like crescents. At its heart, a silver moon cradled a black wolf with its head