Slytherin Tattoos Novels & Stories

He’s jittery. He tries to reach out for his cup of coffee, but then his big sleeve gets in the way and makes it spill all over the table. However, that’s not the worst thing that happened. His sleeve rolls back, revealing a very vivid tattoo—a tattoo that I have too. The phases of the moon. The insignia of Sangria Amori, the mark of Royals, known by everyone. Morgan glares at the tattoo. Then he slowly looks up at us. At me.

He scoffed, taking off his trousers, and I looked away. A wave of dread washed over me, not sure what to expect next. Fear rose in my chest as I curled my fingers into the bedspread. By the time I looked back up, he was fully undressed, but he had his back facing me. I felt a drool escape my lip as my eyes traveled over his body—broad shoulders, his muscular back adorned with a large crest tattoo, identical to his brother's, except he was larger, taking up the entire top left side of his back. The tattoo depicted a shield with two swords crossed above it. Two lions stood on their hind legs, pulling the shield from both sides. Below the shield, a banner displays the name "Dontrell." The desig

I breathed, finally noticing the ink on his back. He didn’t have tattoos five years ago. His skin was smooth, and— I shouldn’t think about it, about him. I shook my head and stared at the tattoo on his back. It was a hex sign with wings on the sides. One single line from the hex sign marked his whole spine, to the edge of his nape. It was a scandalous tattoo for a Lycan King because hex signs were associated with black powers, and wolves never sought refuge in darkness. We thrived in the light of the moon. And Lycans—the most honorable and loyal out of us all—would never focus on the dark.

Slytherin Pack might be weak, but the Leidea family was still the head of it—Alpha Jonathan Leidea ruled here, Anne’s father. But their power didn’t mean strength. Everyone also knew Slytherin Pack had been barely holding on, surrounded by stronger packs waiting for a chance to swallow them whole. That fact alone annoyed me even more. And then I saw him. A man lurking near the gate. He was dressed in black—jacket, mask, gloves. The kind of clothes meant to blend with the night. But I saw the tattoo on his hand when he moved. Fantom Pack. An assassin. I narrowed my eyes, watching silently from the shadows.

Immediately, Sly enter the bathroom, violet tried so hard to untie herself, but it was too difficult, she struggled and struggled until she became tired and sad, she suddenly thought of someone to come rescue her from this hell she was leaving in. Some minutes after, Sly came out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist and water dripping from his body. He had a dragon tattoo on the side of his tummy, and Violet's eyes widened in fear as she quickly looked away, her face pale. "Come on, don't be shy, it's yours to look at anyway," he smirked, moving towards her. Just then, someone knocked on the door, and a sound of gunshots was heard. Violet screamed, her eyes wide with fear.

My eyes locked on the pattern On his back—and there, almost hidden beneath a line of dried blood, was ink. A tattoo. I blinked, leaning forward, my breath catching before I realized it. The tattoo wasn’t simple. No rogue bore that mark. A serpent devouring a wolf's tail. Encircled with fire. The emblem of an ancient rebellion. A forgotten bloodline. One that had caused my family pain. One that had hunted me in my sleep. I stepped closer, as if drawn to it by something magnetic, something that twisted in my gut. I didn’t touch it. Not yet.

Lee says. I carefully sit on the side of the bed and pull down the sheets. "Fuck me. Do you see that, Lee?" I ask. She is only wearing a Hogwarts t-shirt. It's a Slytherin one with Draco Malfoy on it. "She is a big fan of bad boys." Lee laughs. "No! She is mine! She should be a fan of us, not him!" I snap at Lee furiously. "Ok, man. Lee replies, backing off. "I want to touch her. Fuck, look at her panties. They are see-through, black, sheer as fuck." I said, feeling myself getting excited.

Only a Luna had the right to put on such an accessory. "Do you know? Silas told me he hates how you're always so arrogant. He said that he feels true happiness only when he's with me," Greta bragged to me. "By the way, Silas is tremendously upset over this Binding Tattoo. He stands guard next to me every day and kisses that part of my skin to leave his scent on it. That way, it'll prevent any other werewolf from harassing me. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm grateful to you…"

I whisper more towards myself. The tattoo is of no ordinary design. The intricate details almost seem inhumanly made. Swirls of dusty-grey storm clouds surround a midnight-blue sword. They begin at the handles and spiral throughout the golden blade. Behind the sword lays black and blue tip wings. Each feather tip is like a tempestuous addiction. The closer I come, I want to touch it. Visions of the wings wrapping around me, never allowing me to escape, consume my thoughts. I look up at Raquel and shiver, not understanding how a tattoo could be so powerful.