Rose Collarbone Tattoo Novels & Stories

We were far from out of the woods, the edge still miles away, but for the first time we were able to relax a little. “What?” he asked as he stopped in front of me. Slowly I trailed my eyes up his body, taking in each piece of ink that covered his skin. The rose to signify his family sat right over his heart. A crow, a skull, and other shapes folded in sharp lines and splashes of red and black from his shoulder down to his wrist. A lion sat on his right pec—a nod to his persona. Each muscle was pronounced, and when I finally reached his gaze, a shiver rolled through me. I blew out a breath and fanned myself.

I figured she didn't want anyone to hear our conversation since she locked us in the bathroom. "What is that on your collarbone?" She murmured. My brows bunched together in confusion. "It's a bite mark." "I know it's a bite mark. What type of mark is that?" "Okay, now you've lost me. What are you getting at?" "That is not a werewolf mark." "How so?" "Have you seen Kim and Reese's marks? It's on their necks, not their collarbones. It's more delicate-looking if that's explanation enough, and most importantly, it's red. Yours is black, and it almost looks like a thorn-like tattoo."

This just goes to say that no matter the circumstances, Marisol Purity De la Cruz Amador would always dance to the intoxicating beat of danger. The music breathes through me before I move. Low. Heavy. Familiar. The mask hides my face, but not my identity. That's not my aim. Anybody who knows this body knows these tattoos. The roses on my hip and the switchblade—a silent warning to all those who may think it wise to approach—I'm beautiful and brutality wrapped in one. Ryat had me drawing new tattoos years into our marriage. Roses and thorns. Love that wounds. Just—I'm not quite sure I was thinking about him when I made the decision.

Clad in leather biker jackets like the one on Coles back, the signature scorpion ring-like shape on the back in red thread. The scorpion in the shape of a circle, with its tail just reaching its head. A piston and crowbar in the middle forming an "X" in silver thread. Not very detailed but quite unique, being the only one of its kind. Every member has her/his own jacket, although there are of course alterations and personalisation is allowed to certain extent. Mine has royal blue checker flacks at the sleeves, albeit I'm not wearing mine now. Whereas Cole opted for a skull at the right breast plate.

“Fine, but I’m here when you’re ready to talk. Don’t forget, I love you, Death Bear.” She brings my hands to her soft lips, kissing the back of it right on my tattoo of a yellow rose tipped with red that drips blood drops to my fingers. It’s one of the few I have in color. It’s symbolic of friendship and falling in love. I had gotten it when I first realized the innate connections I have with Jase. The connection with him is like the one I have with Carley. I’d see the world drowning in rivers of blood at my hands for them alone.

My eyes drifted down to his torso, and my breath caught. God must have enlisted his finest artist to carve Killian Knight. The tattoo, a haunting web of thorned vines, began at his right hip and sprawled across his torso. Its black branches reached his heart, with another branch peeking over his left shoulder and spreading down his arm to his elbow. The intricate design, hidden beneath his clothes, was now fully exposed.

He plucks out a small box from his jacket, a black velvet box. “I am yet to get your collar... would you mind wearing this in place of it? Just until your collaring ceremony.” he asks me, he struggles with himself as he asks, he opens the box and it is a small, silver band, it looks simple, but upon a closer inspection, I see a single sun flower drawn on it. My throat closed up, this was the most thoughtful collar-- well, ring I have ever seen, it was perfect. “It is beautiful Abed... I love it, I might even want to keep it after the collaring ceremony.”

Familiar, almost. It hit me like a freight train. The tattoo. Peeking out from under his collar—a small, intricate raven on his collarbone. I’d seen that exact ink in one of Dominic’s videos, the one where he fucked a co-ed lookalike against a bookshelf, her legs wrapped around his waist as he pounded her relentlessly. My breath caught. No. It couldn’t be.

The remnants of pain were still trying to occupy a place on the sensitive reactions in the nerves in her body, like they were causing an electric shock. Moreau's arm moved tentatively to greet the mirror that Abihirt brought closer. She quickly adjusted her sitting position. She was transfixed by the reflection of the nipple clamps on her breasts. There was no clue what Abihirt would do in the future, but Moreau tried not to think too far ahead this time. Immediately drew attention to the new tattoo—a small one under the chest. Beautiful. The sketch of a rose seen in the studio earlier, with budding petals and covered by a stem that was only half, as the rest was on Abihirt's new tattoo. Rig

"Why isn't he waking up?" Soren didn't answer right away, his attention fixed on something else entirely, his fingers pulling back the collar of Knox's shirt where the creature's touch had landed. A mark had bloomed there, silver veins spidering out from a central point just below his collarbone, faint and glowing softly even now, unmistakable in its pattern. "Show me yours," Soren said suddenly, looking up at me, urgency sharpening his voice. "Your shoulder. Now, Calla." I pulled my collar aside with trembling hands, revealing the scar that had marked me since the forest, silver veins radiating outward in the same pattern now visible on Knox's chest, down to the smallest branching line.