Valeria Tattoo Novels & Stories

My husband was a computer whiz, and he brought me along to work in Valen. Rent in Valen was steep, so we ended up in one of those chaotic, mixed-bag apartment buildings. The place was packed with edgy young girls in trendy Valenese outfits, their lips and tongues covered in piercings. They said Valen's adult entertainment industry was thriving, but after arriving, I realized it goes way beyond that. These people had turned their subculture into an art form, with every twist and challenge pushing the limits of my imagination.

“Have a seat, Leilah.” Colby assisted me in the seat in front of this Blake guy while he took the seat beside him. There were folders on the table and Blake is drinking wine. “Leilah, this is my adoptive brother, Blake Valentino. Blake, this is my biological sister, Leilah Rivera.” Colby introduced us. Blake reached out his hand. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Rivera.” His voice is sultry and wispy. It sounded like sea waves crashing inside my ears.

How could Valerie have anything to do with the Alpha King? His Beta swallowed hard. "I did some digging. Three years ago, the Alpha King's only daughter ran away from home. The timeline matches perfectly with when Valerie arrived here." The truth crashed down on him. No matter how impossible it seemed, Wyatt understood. Valerie wasn't just Valerie. She was Valerie Sterling. The heir to the Alpha King. His Beta quickly sent over the files. Wyatt read them once. Then again. Valerie Sterling. The only daughter of Alpha King Alaric, who hid her identity to escape her fated mate.

The caption screams in bold letters: CRUZ HOLDINGS CEO'S SECRET ROMANCE: Who Is The Mystery Woman? My blood runs cold, my fingers trembling. The photo is clear. His hand is on my lower back, and my face tilts up toward his. I drop the magazine as if it has burned me. "Oh my God," I whisper. "Zara." I look up, and Valerio is standing in the doorway of his office. His expression is unreadable, but I can see the storm beneath the surface. "Come in," he says. I walk into his office on shaking legs. The moment I step inside, he closes the door and draws the blinds, the click of the remote loud in the silence.

My stomach twisted as I picked it up, the silver cool against my palm. I flipped it over, and my blood ran cold. Etched on the back, in delicate script: Valeria Rhen.

I did, fingers tracing the raised ink while driving, smacking their asses light to make them sting. Home, they stripped naked except collars, parading the new marks. "Fuck us with them on display," Valerie said, bending over the couch. Jealousy sparked—Vanessa pushed her. "Me first. My tattoo's better." Valerie shoved back. "Liar. He inked me longer." They wrestled again, tits slapping, pussies rubbing as they rolled on the floor. I watched, cock out, stroking slow. "Fight for my cock, sluts."

Surely due to the voltage they shared the night before, which did not allow room for thoughts other than giving themselves to each other. Athena felt somewhat confused; that tattoo was surprisingly similar to the one she had behind her ear, the one of Leo, while Valentino's represented Scorpio. Why did he have a similar tattoo? Could they be coincidences? However, if they were, it would be a very strange coincidence.

They believe she is the right fit for me. And they were right. In the long run, if I am not careful, she is going to be my weakness. “There is something you don't understand about Valeria.” I began and my other hand moved towards her delicate slim waist before tracing my hand up to the side of her breast. She stiffened and my wolf grew restless inside me. Intriguing. Her heart beat skyrocketed as she looked at me. Why act as if she is pure when she is the same woman who dances for me in the club?

Miguel thought about it slowly. “Yes, how about 'Valsha'?” Aeliana smiled. “Valsha sounds great and adorable, Your Majesty. But where would you like to tattoo that?” Miguel thought, knowing that only three people owned his heart: his mate, his son, and his people. Giving Valeria space in his heart wasn't that bad, right? He pulled down his robe a little.

Every night, when passion brought them close, she would lie in his arms, gaze at the tattoo, and ask him what it meant. He had hesitated, as feelings of fondness and longing washed over him. “It’s faith. A faith more important to me than my own life.” Back then, Valerie didn’t know that the letters represented Camilla Baldwin. Valerie had naively believed his words, accepting them without question. She saw his dreams as her own and adopted his faith, even going as far as to get an identical tattoo. Now, looking back on those memories, Valerie didn’t feel pain anymore—only a kind of bittersweet humor.