Traditional Raven Tattoo Flash Novels & Stories

Familiar, almost. It hit me like a freight train. The tattoo. Peeking out from under his collar—a small, intricate raven on his collarbone. I’d seen that exact ink in one of Dominic’s videos, the one where he fucked a co-ed lookalike against a bookshelf, her legs wrapped around his waist as he pounded her relentlessly. My breath caught. No. It couldn’t be.

“Never going to happen.” Just as I’m about to turn away, Raquel grabs me by the upper arm. My shirt’s sleeve rides up an inch, exposing the bottom portion of my old tattoo. She frowns, a flicker of recognition flashing across her eyes. She doesn’t let me escape, moving so swiftly that I have no time to react. She pushes my sleeve up to expose the entire composition: a raven with red feathers and an arrow in its black beak. Her mouth falls open. “You’re a Red Raven.”

He responds as he looks at me. I glance towards the end of the bar and nod towards the woman sitting there. Trevor looked at me and nodded then cleared his throat. The young woman at the end didn't move a single muscle. Her long black wavy hair hung over one side of her shoulder covering her face but revealing a small piece of tattoo on her shoulder blade. I glance in the giant mirror on the wall behind the counter. The tops of two very detailed wings covered her shoulders and disappeared under the back of her dress. There was a small tattoo on the back of her neck that I recognized well. It's a symbol we all get when we come of age as wolves. It's like a badge of honor.

Raf screamed and they started doing it. I was still thinking if I should get the tattoo. I was scared, but I decided to get it! “Done!” Aaron stated. I approached Raf to see that tattoo. He had an amazing picture of Lion keeping a dome with water and Pisces in hands. It made me think about something, but I quickly kicked it out of my head. The tattoo was on the shoulder. It looked amazing. “Wow,” I whispered. “You like it?” Raf asked. I nodded, still looking at his shoulder. “Have you decided to get it?”

said the host. She was trying to add a little levity to the conversation, but was shocked when the Ravens nodded to each other in confirmation. Their lives had been marred by conflict and danger. Each of them would have been dead many times over, if not for the others. “Yeah, pretty much,” said Eva. “The tourney was a nice break from that.” ~ While the Ravens were interviewed on one screen, another one next to it had the Ravens’ ‘Cast open. One of their most popular videos was playing, though its volume was at the minimum.

“That took longer than I expected.” I spun around. Raven stood a few steps away, a gun raised and steady in her hand. Her hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, exposing the back of her neck. A tattoo drawn there. A cross. I had ever noticed it before. Her hair was always down and had always covered it. Suddenly, everything clicked. Why Knox had said she was different. Why he had said she smelled like rain mixed with mud. Why she was supposed to be dead—yet here she stood.

even if one of those wolves was supposed to be mine. Raven stood in the centre of it all, her red curls cascading like a waterfall down her back, a silver thread woven through every lock. Her dress was nothing short of ethereal, a masterpiece of moon lace and frost-spun silk, with a bodice that glittered like starlight and a flowing train kissed by ancient runes. She looked powerful. Beautiful. Untouchable. And Declan... gods.

He smirked before removing a ring from his pocket. "Do you recognise this ring, Princess?" he asked. Valerie gasped with shock. She remembered the ring. It's the black opal ring which is similar to the pendant she is wearing. Raphael wears it. She never saw him removing that ring. It is the symbol of a Raven clan royal. Irina and Cadmus also has similar kind of rings. Each ring has the name of the person engraved on the underside of the ring. She snatched the ring and looked at the underside of the ring for the name.

“The coin. The token. The sigil.” He worked his bruised fingers to his neck with an animal’s stubbornness, and for a heartbeat I thought he’d been trying to tear the ropes. Instead he tugged something slick and dark from under his shirt… a small, familiar pendant wrapped in dried blood. I knew it before he held it up. It was Raven’s…no, not the woman’s face I’d seen, but the emblem she wore when she met with Kieran months ago: a raven midflight, talons bared, the same tiny etching I’d seen on a medallion once handed to our enemies.

“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.