Zoro Swords Tattoo Novels & Stories

In the left portion of his chest, lies a blue dragon that was emitting fire from its mouth. It looks much like a tattoo to me, except that, it was moving. The mark on his chest is moving! His tattoo fascinated me so much, I had to stop myself from touching it. "What was that?!" I exclaimed when another set of marks appeared on his chest along with the dragon. The mark shows two swords crossing against each other behind the blue glowing creature. "This is the mark of prophecy, the dragon symbolizes the fated savior, and this two crossing swords behind it, symbolizes us, your guardians."

The hand moved slowly, almost gracefully, its long fingers reaching through the air like vines searching for light. The tattoo on its wrist, the symbol of the Aethelford bloodline, throbbed softly with a foul, silvery glow. Siron rolled to the side. The ritual knife in his hand felt like a plastic toy, but his survival instinct was stronger. His blood raced, and the Soul Flower on his chest flared to life. The heat was no longer a sensation of pain, but of pure fury.

I smiled, though my body trembled slightly with unease. He smirked, his eyes darkening as he sauntered towards me. Slowly, he reached out, invading my space. My gaze drifted to his chest, where intricate tattoos sprawled across his skin, half of his left chest completely inked. There was a large python coiled menacingly, its fangs bared as if ready to strike. Surrounding it were other symbols—a bleeding dagger, an intricate skull wrapped in thorns, and a blood moon rising behind them all. The ink seemed almost alive, dark and haunting, like it held secrets too dangerous to reveal. I had seen something like this before. The imagery was disturbing, almost as if he were part of some secretive c

He looked enticing with his furrowed brows and serious pout. What the heck, girl?! I mentally pinched myself as I tried to avoid the fact that Jordan himself was wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. I tried my best not to look, but I couldn’t help but stare at the tattoo on his back. It was a full scale dragon - I noticed that the end of its tail could be found on the base of his nape, its body running down the length of his spine then going around his right hip, its head disappearing just beside his crotch.

I approach the covered painting board and try to look under it. " WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?" Shouts a male voice. His voice invades in me chills, warm chills and when I turn to look at the person who shouted of anger, I realize it is still him. Zack Torneur, with a tower attached around his waist, living his naked well-sculptured chest seen with his wings tattoo. When I analyze him more deeply, apart from his curly hair and his light brown eyes, he has a light stubble beard. On his forarm the word GO in very big capital letters had been tattooed, on his biceps a big moon tattoo and on his thorax a rose surrounded by thorns. All this tattoo? What for? It seems he has other tattoos, but right n

Each man wore the mark. Different symbols etched into skin: a serpent coiled around a sword on the left forearm of one, twin wolves snarling beneath a bleeding moon on the wrist of another, a skeletal crown on the palm of a third, and a phoenix swallowing its own tail just above the elbow of the last. Each tattoo pulsed faintly, dark and ancient, remnants of an allegiance born of secrecy, ambition, and old blood.

Five times, he pinned Roman to the mats before they finally climbed out, reaching for water. The day was sweltering. Tristan pulled off his shirt, splashing water over his head and chest before sitting down to watch the next round. Zoriana couldn’t help but stare. His shoulders, arms, and chest were covered in intricate tattoos—shadowy wolves and tribal ornaments that accentuated his ripped muscles. Droplets of water clung to his skin, looking sinfully delicious. Realising she was openly ogling him, she turned away, heat rushing to her cheeks. “Alpha Zoriana, would you like the next round?” Roman asked. “Tom is one of our best; he’d be a worthy opponent.”

Inscribed across his biceps was a black shield bearing the image of an ivory two-headed eagle hovering over five yellow circles that are in the shape of an inverted V. Danica placed her clothes on the footstool at the end of the bed and raised her hand to touch his arm, glancing at Lorenzo for permission. *********** *LORENZO* I held my breath as she traced the outline of my tattoo, her finger skirting across my skin, her light touch echoing through my body, toward my groin, and I suppressed a groan. “Did it hurt?” I grimaced. “I could endure the pain. Are you interested in getting one?”

Paul added, obviously uncomfortable with the tears. I covered my whole face as I hunched over slightly, sobbing into them. A sign of an elite warrior, one that had been trained and passed their tests, was a tattoo. It spread from shoulder, across the back and to the other shoulder. Each one was slightly different, tailored to the warrior but within a pack, there was always a specific design. It meant the world to me that they would gift me this. “Skylar.” Someone took my hands and held them. Carl was on one knee in front of me. He was smiling as reached up and brushed tears from my cheek.

Abe nodded his head at Aegeus. "20 more to go" A few kilometres away from the site of the battle, a man clad in a robe with the insignia of a Wolf on it was approaching Abe and the others' location. He smelt of several different herbs, and in his hands was a blue potion. As if he wasn't peculiar enough, he carried another thing that was a source of great fear to Zandorians; for strapped onto his back was a blade that was as dark as the night and as cold as winter - the Dark Sword!