Thorfinn Dagger Tattoo Novels & Stories

At least they will get to share something special together. My red dress clings tightly to my figure and frames my cleavage, the slit up the side making my family tattoo visible. The tattoo is of a fighting wolf and snake, their bodies entwining around my thigh. It’s our mark of honor as alpha daughters, usually appearing when we come of age. Mine made its debut on the night my mother died.

“You’ll be okay soon. Try to relax. It’s okay.” In a daze, I trace my fingertips over the tattoos on his chest, studying them with hazy curiosity. My breathing slows, and my heart rate calming. The sound of the hotel room’s ventilation is a distant hum in my ear, a white noise that helps my mind settle. I tap Thor’s chest tattoo, the one in the shape of a dove over his heart. “What’s this one supposed to mean?” I ask, barely above a whisper. “To honor my mother,” he says. I’m surprised by his honesty.

She lifted her dagger from where she hid it and brought it closer towards them as he loosened a bit of his embrace towards her. The dagger belonged to Shia since she was a young girl, but the addition to the dagger was a special gift from Shia’s father not too long ago. Its handle was made of gold, and it was encrusted with a big sapphire stone at its helm where the letter “A” was elaborately etched. She touched the bejewelled part of its handle and clicked a hidden lock. Then all at once, a small portrait that showed seven, jovial faces was revealed.

Slowly some writings begin to appear on the dagger. I stared until the writings finally stopped. 'Next time, I'll aim for your heart.' I read with a pounding heart and watched how quickly the words disappeared. This was magic. My deep blue eyes travelled to the dagger's head and I went ice cold at the familiar symbol on it, boldly inscribed in 'T' which meant 'Trinity' I let out a gasp, dropping the dagger as it sounded again at it's landing. 'They've found me' Fuck!!!! The Organization has found me.

I traced the hand holding the gun, and my sight met that of the pair of eyes that'll forever hunt me. They were bloodred eyes!

I peeled back the cloth. The dagger. My dagger. The one with the white wolf crest carved into the hilt, the same one Thalia had pressed into my palm the night everything had burned down. The one I’d carried through Iceland, through Florida, through every life I’d lived before this one. The one I’d believed was safely locked away in Ravenwood’s secured wing.

The memory of her father’s journal echoed in her ears: “The wolf with no tether leaves only ruin behind.” And suddenly... she wasn’t sure if that meant Victor. Or her. In the chapel, Nolan finally took the dagger into his hand. It was still warm. Still singing with power. Something carved along the hilt shifted as he turned it. A name. One not written in any language he knew. Not Latin. Not Gaelic. Something older. Wilder. “Get it to forensics,” he muttered, wrapping the hilt in cloth. “Check it for prints. Skin. Blood. I want to know whose hand drove it.”

He had his dad's charm and maybe something darker and evil than his dad that no one knew. Lucifer had many guys working under him; if his workers dared to double-cross him, they would pay with their lives. His guys all had to have a tattoo with the MF. Letters. Their tattoo was unique a dagger in a heart and thorns with dripping blood engraving MF. Some chose to wear it on their neck and arms, while others decided to have it tattooed across their chest. Joshua had a different type of tattoo, also mafia but chose to be unique, the same as his dad.

She pressed herself against the wall, peeking through the gap. Father Zerus stood with his back to her, his cassock already on the floor, his broad shoulders bare. He was reaching for a clean shirt when she saw it—the tattoo that covered his left shoulder blade. It is a serpent, coiled around a dagger, its scales , its eyes burning with an inner fire. The dagger was stained with drops of blood, and beneath it, a single word was etched in elegant script: Sosa. Krystal's blood turned to ice. The club. The night she had been so drunk she could barely stand. The man she had walked into, the man whose hand she had grabbed, dragging him through the crowd. The man she had kissed before he had pushe

I loved you like a son! 'But you could not give your so - called son what he wanted most in life, the throne, even though it is within your powers to do it!' he reminded him. 'Don't bother trying to pull out the dagger or to heal yourself. The dagger is made from silver and was soaked in wolfsbane for good measure', he boasted. 'Are you not afraid that Hector will find out what you.. you h..have done?' Spark asked as he spirited blood from his mouth.