Spider Tattoo Forearm Novels & Stories

Then he looked at the fourth one and just waited. The fourth one stepped back. Smart. The referee rang the bell. The crowd went loud. The man stood in the middle of it all, chest rising and falling, sweat gleaming under the lights, and looked completely unbothered. Like he had just taken a short walk. Then I saw his forearm. The tattoo. Dark ink, detailed, curling up from his wrist toward his elbow. A dragon, scales and lines I could actually make out now in the better light. My breath left my body.

Didn’t look away. Neither did I. Until I couldn’t take the way my stomach fluttered, the way heat bloomed beneath my skin. I looked down, breath catching in my throat. His hand moved to untangle mine from his shoulder—and then stilled. He was staring at my forearm. At the vein. Dark and thin, spidering from just beneath the skin. Not green. Not purple. Black. I thought that vanished before. His fingers wrapped around my wrist, not hard, but firm. Possessive.

"I haven’t heard from her in weeks. Seeing as you’re calling, I guess she must be okay?" Maddox shot me a look. "I haven’t heard from her in weeks either," He replied. "But I got your number from her months ago. I suddenly got the urge to get that tattoo she wouldn't stop raving about. But just to be clear, you did the tattoo on her waist right?” The artist let out a chuckle. "Ah, I see. You must mean the spider tattoo—lower right side of her waist?" My breath caught in my throat.

“I need the ink.” “What colors?” He asked. “Each pile gets a black. The second one gets three.” Alec did as I asked. “The fourth is a water color tattoo so I need one pink, purple, blue, green and yellow. This one is red and orange.” “Four tattoos today?” Alex asked. “Yeah, they are all big tattoos and not much pain tolerance.” “Mine is itching like crazy.” “Turn around and lift your shirt up.” I said rolling my eyes. Grabbing the numbing lotion, I put it on his back. He even keeled for me but I caught him looking at me in the mirror.

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.

Then I heard the grunting. We followed the sound, and in the middle of the room, James had a man pinned down. My other bodyguards stood still, waiting. The man’s head lifted, his face drenched in sweat. His arm twisted, and that’s when I saw it—the tattoo. A spider with a woman’s face on its body. Our eyes locked. Dwayne stepped closer, his voice cold. “I’m disappointed.” The man started to pant, trembling under James’s grip. Dwayne’s lips curled. “I’m going to enjoy ripping out your bones.”

The two noticed it was only Yamato. Without his cloak Yamato's heavily tattooed arms could be seen. The most notable tattoos were the kanji on his left arm that read "Even humans can be gods" while on his right it was a man climbing a spider's thread. He was wearing a tight black shirt, black gloves, and black pants. His face had a stern expression that seemed almost frozen with how stiff it was. "Where are the others?" Peter asked. 'You'd think he was a grim with that outfit.' Oliver thought.

Alexander turned sharply, irritation flaring—then stopped. In the man’s palm lay a small black box, no larger than a matchbox. Its surface was matte, faintly warm, as though it had just been held. Etched into its lid was an intricate crimson carving. A red spider lily. The flower seemed almost alive in the low light—its petals curved like flames, blooming darkly, violently, like blood against black stone. Alexander’s breath stilled. He recognised it instantly. The same pattern. The same unmistakable design as the tattoo on her back.

His hair was wet, and he had nothing but boxers on. I had a vivid view of his tattoos. Adorning his back was a fierce-looking wolf, jaws agape and poised to seize its prey. On his chest, a heart ensnared in thorny vines bled profusely, the tendrils winding their way to a blossoming rose, seemingly coloured by the lifeblood drawn from the heart. Positioned on the left side of his chest was a strikingly fierce yet captivating eagle. Additional intricate designs adorned his arms, crafted with bold strokes of black ink. The well-defined muscles accentuated the synergy between his movements and the artistic lines. I found myself pondering about the talented artist behind these captivating creatio

He is gorgeous to behold. He had a tattoo on his right pectoral of a wolf howling. That continued down his upper arm to a forest scene, with a dark-haired woman kneeling amongst a black wolf, two gray wolves, and a solid white wolf. The woman appeared familiar to me, but I didn’t get the best look. There was another tattoo below it that encased his forearm in a skull with an ornate feather headdress. There was a black tribal bracelet tattooed around his wrist, and on the top of each finger were unique wooden arrows. Not one arrow was the same. On his other hand was a dream catcher with various feathers on his fingers.