Spider Murphy Tattoo Book Novels & Stories

SERA The room was quiet, dimly lit, with nothing but the sound of our breathing filling the space. I lay next to him, staring at the ceiling, trying to catch my breath. But my eyes kept drifting to him—to that tattoo-covered body lounging lazily against the headboard. My hand moved on its own, tracing my fingers over the ink—lines so intricate, so mesmerizing. My fingers stopped at the wolf howling at a full moon, beautifully etched across his chest, covering most of his left side and stretching to his shoulder. “A wolf,” I murmured, my voice softer than usual. “Like your name.”

I didn't think that he was the reading type, so whatever he was reading must be so interesting and eye-catching. “Well, just reading books on the origin of our pack.” Ryder responded as I walked up to him. Getting closer to him, I stared at the book and saw a pictures too, but one of the pictures caught my attention the most. It was a picture of some people who had a tattoo of a golden griffin on their arms. “What does that signify?” I asked again, out of curiosity. “Well, it's the tattoo given to important people in this pack. You have the tattoo as well.”

Dustin sneered. “Certainly not. If you tell me, I can leave one person alive, but if you don’t, I’m going to annihilate your entire family.” Brennan’s face turned grim, but in the end, he could only sigh. Then, he whispered, “I can tell you that the person who gave the orders that day was someone with a red spider lily tattoo on the back of his hand.” Dustin’s face froze. Some organizations used tattoos to mark their members. That was a very common thing.

I say, feeling betrayed. Damn! Did one of mine betray me? " You think? But who could have allied with them? " Guilhermino asks thoughtfully, making a strange face. "Does anyone here have a spider tattoo on their shoulder?" He immediately looks at me confused. " Which is? Spider tattoo, what the fuck? I shrug it off, downing more shots of whiskey. " I remember one of the men is shirtless and has this tattoo, maybe it's someone from here." I clarify, pouring myself more of the amber drink.

It was so fucking frustrating! “I need answers,” I said, and three sets of jaws clenched shut. “Fine. Then go fuck yourselves.” I stood and headed for the door. I’d given them an out. If they got killed now, it was their own damn fault. I reached for the doorknob and paused, staring at my hand. The tattoo. I turned around. If they insisted on trying to protect me, they would need all the help they could get. Lifting my hand, I pointed to the spot between my thumb and forefinger. “The guy last night had a tattoo right here. It was all black ink. A stylized V with an ouroboros around it. I’ve never seen it before. I’m not sure—”

The guards bristled at the slight movement, pressing their spears closer to him. Xavier raised a hand, halting their movements. I watch as Peter reveals a coiled snake tattoo, just below his ear. I've seen it a couple of times. I never thought it meant anything. But watching as Alpha Xavier stiffens, a momentary look of hesitation in his eyes, I realize that I couldn't have been more wrong.

Even though I wanted nothing more than for the pack to be in ruins, I wanted it to be by my hands. Today's day activities had taken a different turn as a spy was caught. He claimed he had come to see a fellow pack member but the said person had been dead for at least three years. A tattoo was then found on his body. It was a mark given to those in the Blood moon pack. The Omegas hung his hands above his head with silver metal, biting deep into his skin, causing the spy to scream out in pain. His legs were elevated off the ground and started beating him so he would confess why he was actually here.

I carry my face from his chest slowly and carefully, not to wake him up I roll over and lie on my side. I admire his sinful beauty, if I can just touch it once more. That's right I can touch it, after all he's sleeping. I flatten my palm on his chest and feel each rhythmic movement his chest makes when he breathes. I outline his body with my hands, over the six divisions on his belly to the tattoo on his chest. I remember when he got that, I came back tired from the classes I had and he came into my house grinning like he just won a lottery. He made me close my eyes, trust me I still cheated, opening my eyes slightly to try to take peaks of whatever surprise he was bringing up. When I opened

There is no point in doing anything right now so I keep quiet. The whole place is filled with scary-looking tattoed dudes. Bored, I started noticing the scary guy's tattoos. It's a skull, a red skull with wings and a cross. The tattoo is bright and dull at the same time. The cross it clutches seems more like a trophy than a symbol of hope, stained with a history whispered only in faded scars. Bright and dull, a paradox mirroring the struggle between survival and surrender. Art sure is fascinating. Someone walked up to him just then. He looks me up and down, "who is this, chick."

He had read it so many times that the pages were filled with of fingerprints and the pages had been dog-eared. He started reading the chapter and everything he had read from it began to come back to him. It talked about a tribe of wolves whose leader was ancient and powerful, whose main purpose was to claim territories and packs as his. He usually marked the members of his tribe with a tattoo on any body part they wished. And as Logan read that last sentence, something clicked in his subconscious. A barbaric tribe of wolves. His mother's confusing hatred for the book. The tattoos Aella. What if these three were actually connected?