Wolf Pack 3 Wolves Tattoo Novels & Stories

“You are now a third-tier dominant wolf.” Shock coursed through me as I stared at the glowing tattoo on my wrist, watching it transform before my very eyes. Shit.

His wolf growled out, his black eyes turning gold, a sign of his wolf emerging from its slumber, only for his sister’s own black eyes to turn copper, challenging his with a small snarl. Being born from a powerful alpha like their father, as well as a strong-willed and outspoken woman as a mother, all three Knox siblings were born as an alpha and to say the least, it had led to an interesting family dinner, one of which is far more than enough to give their parents a headache for a lifetime.

The three tattoos were perfectly visible: on her right shoulder, her left shoulder, and the base of her back. On her right shoulder was a beautiful wolf with blue eyes and turquoise irises. The wolf's expression was serene but powerful, as if it held ancient secrets. On her left shoulder, two wolves were embracing, their bodies intertwined in a gesture of affection and unity, with half a heart drawn between them. And at the base of her back, a complex tribal tattoo, involving words written in an ancient, unknown language, seemed to pulsate with its own energy. She remembered clearly the night before, when Owen looked at her with eyes full of pride and emotion. He had knelt behind her and, wi

In the centre was a crescent moon with two swords going through it and the swords were placed in a way that made an X. To regular people, it looked like a weird burn scar or tattoo. But among wolves, it was a warrior’s mark. The training instructor of the pack decided whether or not someone had earned a mark based on their competing with warriors from four main packs. When a wolf earns it, it was etched into their side with a silver needle so it’d show when they shifted as fur wouldn’t grow where the needle left a mark. In the rare case of the warrior not being a wolf, a tattoo machine would be used. Each part of the mark represented where someone was acknowledged as a warrior. The top teeth

The attack came at dawn. I was in the clearing behind Elena’s cabin, practicing the staff forms she’d taught me, when my wolf suddenly screamed a warning. DANGER! I spun just as three wolves burst from the tree line, massive and coordinated. Not rogues. These were trained pack wolves, moving with military precision. They shifted mid-leap, bones cracking and reforming until three naked men landed in combat stances around me. All bore the same tattoo on their left shoulders: a mountain peak crossed by a crescent moon.

“No.” I said firmly. “I must insist. Yo-” the doctor stepped forward “You touch me with that needle and I won’t be the only one with a concussion.” I threatened. “I saw your tattoo. You can’t be afraid of needles.” Janine said. Damn, I had a massive tattoo of my wolf on my back. She was pure white, which is a symbol of royalty. “What is your tattoo of?” Axel asked.

"However, that 5,000 isn't actually that important to me." As the police had suspected, money wasn't what Woody was truly after. "We've known each other for a while now, so I'll stop beating around the bush. From now on, let's be honest with each other, shall we?" He picked up a glass and toasted the empty air. "Come on out, boys. Time for the lady to meet you three." The bedroom door opened, and three wolves stepped out, each one bearing the wolf claw tattoo on his waist. Their eyes wandered over me with predatory lust, and fear crept into my pores like winter frost, turning my blood to ice.

The makeup I applied to my face makes them even more striking than before, my blue eyes make them shine, and my lips are furious red making it the first thing they see when they look at my face and compete with it strong blue in my eyes. I leave the small room to meet the three Wolves brothers and I smile when I notice that each one of them also dresses in black, each brother wears a black shirt with rolled-up sleeves, up to the middle of their arms leaving the sight of their tattoos show, their hands full of rings, each of them with the characteristic wolf wrapped in them. Raymond with the pike, Oscar with the diamond, and Noah with the Clover, their personal stamp. Black jeans cover their

“You like them?” God, that smile. My knees actually shifted under the table. “Maybe,” I teased, though my voice wasn’t nearly as steady as I hoped. “They each mean something,” he said, rolling up his sleeve to show more. “This one" he tapped the wolf "is for loyalty. This one—" he pointed at a jagged line with fire etched into it "is for survival. "And this” He smirked, pulling the neckline of his shirt down slightly to reveal a tattoo near his collarbone. “is just for fun.”

Jonathan’s was special, with a lightness, a freshness to it. “I just need to stop for a moment,” Jonathan said. “Catch my breath.” He was clearly exhausted. He’d been searching for her all night, then he shifted to his wolf, and now he was basically carrying her. He stood in front of her, with his back turned, and she noticed the tattooed totem on his back. It stretched up to his shoulders. It wasn’t uncommon for werewolves to have tattoos, most of them did. She traced her finger along the lines of the totem. Jonathan’s tattoo was stunning. His pack obviously had a lot of artistic talent. The tattoo was intricate, with delicate lines. “I’m good now,” he said, turning to face her. He reached