Zuko Tattoos 소설 & 이야기

Zuko stirred within me, his presence growing stronger. Her neck was bare—too bare. Zuko didn’t like that. My mark should’ve been there, a clear symbol of who she belonged to. Only then would she understand that I was her Alpha. My gaze drifted to her lips again, and this time, I couldn’t resist. I leaned in, capturing her mouth with mine.

He looks like a man who has been waiting for hours, possessing all the time in the world. No longer is he just some distorted silhouette or a trick of the mist. His dark hair falls perfectly around his face, and etched clearly into the pale skin of his neck is a blood-red tattoo… a crimson moon. ‘Zhodin.’ Scar snarls, but I can barely feel her presence even though I hear her voice. He doesn’t touch me in the dream. He just watches me, his grey eyes so intense and deeply intimate that my skin crawls. It feels like he’s calling to something inside me, like my body is supposed to submit to him without question.

So we killed more than one person who was involved with the Damned Forsaken. Now I have a Ravager's tattoo of a skull with a zombie raven atop of it wearing a crown, a pistol leaning against the blood-splattered skull. The zombie raven is for the Ravager while the skull with the pistol was my Damned Forsaken tattoo, and the crown is for the Death Kings. I put my spin on it so that it’s unique and easily identifiable as a crew tattoo. I didn’t mind letting the man who trained Lachlan be the one to do the work. Plus that Drogo is a Death King and the Vice President for the Death Riders MC.

I mused, popping a piece of bread in my mouth. “You, a tattoo? Good girl Sophia with permanent ink, I can’t picture it..” He teased me and I couldn’t help but smile. “I resent that statement.” I scoffed, throwing a hand over my heart in mock offence. Jasper’s smile widened, “What would you get?” He leaned back in his seat with his arms crossed over his chest. “The elements; air, fire, earth and water and a crescent moon with a shadow.” The image had been playing in my head for a while.

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

Lenora's POV Alpha Zade stood before me, stark naked, his chiseled physique on full display. My eyes darted wildly around his body, taking in the tattoo that covered part of his chest and left arm. His tattoo was the same as the symbol I had seen on the signboard earlier. ‘Two daggers crossed over its forehead, their blades adorned with ancient runes.’ Alpha Zade's tattoo, a symbol of his Pack's heritage, seemed to glow in the room's dim light, a reminder of his strength and authority and power.

His keen eyes scrutinized the body, tracing the intricate patterns of tattoos etched into the attacker's skin. "This is no ordinary assailant," Elder Broja began, his voice low and gravely. "These tattoos, they speak of allegiance to a specific pack. Each mark represents a vow, a bond, a commitment to their cause." I exchanged a troubled glance with Lyra, sensing the gravity of the situation deepen with each passing moment. "What do these tattoos signify?" I inquired, my voice tinged with apprehension. Elder Broja's gaze bore into mine, his expression grim. "These symbols are ancient, passed down through generations. They denote allegiance to the Eclipse Pack, a ruthless faction known for th

Zach Romano. Leaning against the kitchen doorway like it belonged to him. His black hair was a mess, his blue eyes flat, unreadable, and his bare chest on full display, carved with muscle and shadow. On his ribs, a tattoo stretched over olive skin, an Italian cross with Latin scrawled underneath. Mors tua, vita mea. Your death, my life. I stared at the tattoo. Then, slowly, my eyes dropped to his torso. Abs, tight and low, vanishing into a pair of dark gray sweatpants slung dangerously low on his hips.

“Yes. Ren is literally a Samurai. He’s a warrior, and his family a descendant to a noble class of ancient Japan Society.” Once Lucius was done working on the pentagram, he asked us to step into each corner. “Don’t let anyone’s hands go no matter what. As soon as I cast the incantation, you hold each other’s hand.” “Can I choose where I want my tattoo?” Theia asked. I shook my head as I held Theia’s hand and Nora’s. On the other side was Lucius. He began chanting, and the surge of wind surrounded us. “I forgot to tell you guys that it hurts.” Just as he finished talking, Theia started screaming. He was right it fucking hurt like my skin was burned by a torch or something.

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.