Warrior Protector Archangel Tattoo Novels & Stories

It would’ve completely shattered me into a million small pieces that could never be fixed if it had been me in her shoes. She paused the video and held the phone up to the tattoo on his forearm. Yes, they were the same tattoo. My brows furrowed when I looked at it closer and recognized what it was. Why would he have the symbol of the Werewolf Council? It was given to those on the Council as well as their Sentinels, which was what their specialized warriors were called, as their ID badge so to speak. It’d been created with the help of a very power witch. She essentially made it into a trademark. Only those with approval from the Council were able to get it tattooed on them. IF they ever left

Who would dare to refuse the powerful Arch Angel like Renard. Ben couldn't be killed by a demon or by any other Angel loyal to Renard, his service to the ruling Angel provided him with much needed protection, it would mean war on the demon who would hurt him or try to and they knew they didn't stand a chance against the Arch angel. That piece of information rested heavily on Ben's shoulder like an extra shoulder pad and puffed up his pride. In this bar, he was a mini god of some sort and he flaunted his power proudly at any given chance except when Liam was also in the bar.

They were both oblivious to the pictures that were being taken of them. Lifting his head, he smiled at Taz. “I have something for you.” Angel handed him the white shirt box. He opened it and removed the cut, letting the box and tissue paper fall to the ground. The first thing that she saw was that it was not her cut, and yet it was. The center patch was newer, the devil, who now had multicolored braids, sat on the motorcycle with a halo hanging haphazardly on the left horn, giant angel wings flowed out behind him. The bottom rocker declared her to be Sinners Daughter and the top one proclaimed her as The Devil Herself.

She squeezes them, then smiles at me over her shoulder. “Now, Cara, I want you to slowly push your aura out. While she does that Angel, I want you to guide it, so that these two warriors,” he points to Trevor and another warrior, “are not protected and these three are protected.” Trevor gives me a cocky grin. “Let’s see what you’ve got Lunas!” His friend smacks him on the arm. “Shut up Trevor.” I focus on Cara, reaching out and feeling her aura.

So they found my tattoo? Every Angel organization hunter must have angel wings tattooed on their body; I am no exception; my tattoo is on the left side of my waist. While I was in a daze, the blonde girl came to my side and was about to lift my T-shirt. I instinctively pushed her hand away in surprise. "Don't be afraid! I want to help you heal. I won't harm you." The blonde girl tried to reassure me. In her eyes, I felt she wasn't lying.

And in time, each of their stories shall unfold. There were nine angels in all, three Protectors, three Warriors, and three Saviors. Each triad had their own powers and orders, and none could cross over without severe penalty, and possible banishment. Protectors were adept at spinning spells, weaving magic, and creating talismans for the safety and protection of the human race. On the rare occasion, they could wield a sword offensively, however their swords were mostly use for defense. Warriors had brawn and analytical minds for warfare, and used blessed swords as their weapon of choice. And Saviors were meant to heal those with severe injuries and those who held the hand of death far too pr

LIBRA- She is the 10th ark angel owning and signing the ruling ability of Shamanism in a form of a balancer, she pledges her loyalty and guardianship to protect God's creation, thus her holder and the mirrored identity that they both have from the in-twine world of the original marks the unpredicted twist that will either ruin or build everything out of their known world. SCORPIO- Branded into the dark as his ruling ability of darkness pushes the boundaries of his will in between good and evil. He is the 11th ark angel who pledges his loyalty to protect God's creation in the form of a scorpion, as his holder will be torn in between good and evil, light and dark, and the Yin and Yang due to h

The icy blast would’ve made anyone else recoil, but Dante stood there, solid and unmoving, like he was made of stone. His back was a canvas of ink, just like his front. The artwork was nothing short of breathtaking. Spanning across his entire back was a massive, detailed tattoo—an angel, powerful and divine, standing within the ruins of an ancient temple. The wings spread wide across his shoulder blades, reaching toward his arms, while crumbling pillars surrounded the figure in dramatic grayscale contrast. It wasn’t just a tattoo; it was a story, a testament, a work of devotion etched forever into his flesh. It was absolutely beautiful—mesmerizing, even.

I whispered, “You were amazing.” He pulled back and beamed at me. “Did you see my roll? And—and how I dodged and flipped him?” “I did! I don’t even think I could have done that,” I laughed, brushing his hair from his face. He puffed his chest. “The warriors say I’m strong. That I’m brave.” I kissed his forehead. “You are. You always have been.” He held up his arm, showing me a fresh tattoo inked onto his forearm. A beautiful phoenix with its wings spread in mid-flight as it stood in flames.

There lay two words tattooed in greek. Προστατευόμενη and από which means 'Protected by' and then there were two names tattoed under it, one on each wrist. Cliff. And Joel. And then my eyes met something red, something red pouring over the new tattoo, and dripping down my arms. I turned them over, plams out flat, face down, and realized that punching tree's? Wasn't my best idea. My skin was broken in 20 different places, and gushing blood. Yum, I thought sarcastically.