Three Eyed Raven Tattoo Novels & Stories

Diana says closing the topic, how was your meeting? "It was okay" my eyes wander to Troy, who for some reason is smiling at me . I raise my eyebrows at him and he looks away back to Diana "so I'm guessing you don't know this , but I actually work here , I just came to annoy this young fellow, seeing I've been successful" he looks at me and winks then turns back to Diana "I should be on my way" he stands up, stretching like he hasn’t just been the center of my distraction for the better part of an hour. “I’m gonna grab a coffee,” he says, glancing at Diana. “Jet lag’s finally catching up to me.”

“No.” He attacked. Not with a wild lunge, but with a swift, controlled strike meant to disarm, not kill. I ducked, the shard in my satchel thumping against my ribs. The movement brought me closer to him than I intended. As I twisted away, the collar of the rough leather vest he wore shifted. There, on the side of his neck, just above the thick muscle, was a tattoo. Small, intricate, but unmistakable. A black raven in flight, its wings spread—the exact symbol on the bloodied badge in my pocket. The mark of Damon’s pack.

Soren and I got back to Soren’s home and immediately set to work whole browsing his family’s library for information, but so far, there’s being no luck. I stared pensively at the badge in my hand, my fingers tracing the worn edges of the symbol engraved into the metal. The dim light of the library cast long shadows across the table, making the emblem seem even more ominous. It was a intricate stylized raven with outstretched wings, its beak curved in a silent scream. The moment I saw it, something in my mind stirred—an old, half-buried memory clawing its way back to the surface.

I said, moving to sit across from him. His brow furrowed. “Would you ever leave me alone?” he muttered, and I smirked. “Of course not! That’s why I’m here to help.” I cut straight to the point, crossing my legs. Even though Arden appeared to be the most ruthless and powerful among the three of us, I knew he carried inner burdens that he had been shouldering alone. And his health was one of them. His anxiety gnawed at his wolf, driving him feral whenever it overwhelmed his emotions.

Osric answers while sitting on the edge of the lounge near Raven’s head making her smile. “How are you doing? It’s a big tattoo, you hurting yet?” I question, looking down at her hip to see the raven in red ink at the top of her hip taking up almost her entire thigh. The tattoo is very cool, the Raven is in a defensive attack position and made of knots like you would see in old Norse temples. “Enjoying talking to these guys, and getting to know Ares a bit better, it stings when it’s right over the bone but not bad,” Raven admits while looking down at the tattoo gun pressing against her skin, as Ares works on the dark red outline.

“A small raven on my inner wrist. Something delicate… but permanent. A reminder that I can be brave.” Raven’s eyes darkened with approval. He took my wrist gently, his fingers tracing the sensitive skin where the tattoo would go. The touch sent unexpected heat racing up my arm. “Beautiful choice,” he murmured. “The raven symbolizes transformation. Now describe how you want it to feel when it’s finished.” His thumb stroked slow circles on my pulse point as I tried to answer. “I want it to feel… alive. Like it remembers me every time I look at it.”

he said with his eyes blazing gold this time around. He knew what he did to attain this position but his new people, the wolves he now ruled would have stoned him right here if they knew. Yes! He worked for Raven, doing all her spying just to be the ruler which had been his goal and now that he had gotten it he was happy. Raven was not after the death of the wolves and whatever creatures but after Tartal alone, he and his family. He walked away with his men following him, they would be meeting with the rest of the pack at the 'Elite Cavern'

Raven The sun was blinding as I cracked my eyes open, but was quickly blotted out by a tall form stepping into view. I squinted, shielding my eyes with my arm as I looked up at him. “Oh, thank goodness,” I began. “I-I think my helicopter crashed—” “I can see that.” The tall form’s voice was gruff, deep. He crouched, and the first thing I saw was an all-too-familiar symbol tattooed on his chest. Three claw marks across a wolf’s eye.

He had raven black hair that I first thought were dreads at first glance but then I realized they were actually neatly made thick braids that breached down to his ribs, and covered his round face. He also had almond shaped eyes like the Asian looking small brute behind me, the only difference was this guy had silver–red eyes. Ripped leather black pants with only a silky robe–like jacket he had on. Why wasn't he wearing any shirt? His entire brown chest was consumed with red ink of a flame illustration up to his collarbone, from there was a simple swirl of red and black spider tattoo on the side of his neck then a red ink of three small spheres in triangular formation on his forehead.

“You might even find one of your assailants there too. Half of these men on here are from werewolf pacts.” “Really? Any with tattoos?” Scott pointed to a figure in the middle. Raven moved closer to look, large, gray hair, beady little eyes. “That’s Leo Rambert, he has a wolf tattoo with a moon on his wrist. The image of that night flashed in Raven’s mind, hand resting on the ground next to her head, tattoo clear, as he pushed into her deeply, ‘you like that, don’t you baby?’ Raven snatched the photo down, “When do I need to be ready?”