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He grabs a small vial and approaches Aisling first, gently pricking her finger with a sterile needle. A bead of blood forms and he deftly collects it, placing it into the vial. Aisling doesn’t flinch, her face a mask of determination.
Next, it’s Oberon’s turn. Micah repeats the process, taking a sample of his blood and sealing it in another vial. Oberon clenches his jaw, but otherwise remains stoic.
Finally, it’s my turn. As I roll up my sleeve further, exposing more of my forearm, Micah looks at me with a mix of curiosity and concern. “You sure about this, Gunnar? Once you get that mark, there’s no going back.”
“That’s what you said about my wings,” I say, trying to brush it off.
“And I meant it,” he nods. “I wouldn’t want to get into it with Mr. Solace, and that’s what you’re doing by getting a new mark with this ink, but you gotta do you.”
“That’s right,” I nod. “And I’m sure.”
Micah takes a deep breath, his expression unreadable. He steadies his hand and pricks my finger, collecting a sample of my blood in the vial. The sharp sting makes me flinch, but I keep my gaze fixed on Aisling, who stands beside me, her eyes filled with unwavering support.
As Micah seals the vial, a flicker of doubt crosses his face. “Hope it works,” he mutters under his breath.
As Micah finishes preparing the pheromone ink, I feel a mix of excitement and trepidation. The decision to sever ties with the Angels is not one I take lightly…but Vance has been nothing but secretive, cruel, and sometimes downright destructive.
I can’t risk that when I have a pack to protect.
With a sense of finality, Micah gestures for me to sit back in the chair. He prepares the tattoo gun, the buzzing sound growing louder in the room. The scent of antiseptic lingers in the air, mixing with the nerves and tension swirling around us.
As the needle touches my skin, a jolt of pain shoots up my arm. But I welcome it; it’s a reminder of the sacrifices I’m making and the step I’m taking away from my past life as an Angel. I close my eyes and let the pain wash over me, finding solace in the physical sensation. With each pass of the needle, a part of me feels liberated, as if shedding the skin of my old self and embracing the unknown that lies ahead.
Aisling’s hand finds mine once again, her touch grounding me amidst the flurry of emotions swirling within. Her presence is a steady anchor in this moment of transformation, reminding me that I don’t have to face this new path alone.
As Micah continues his meticulous work, I can’t help but think about Vance. We were close a long time ago…then we grew apart as he got into the dirty business of running the Angels, always keeping me at arm’s length. There was a time when we were more like siblings than boss and underling.
Our bond had been forged through shared experiences and a sense of loyalty that ran deep. But now, that loyalty is tested as I find myself at odds with him and the path he has chosen.
Loyalty should never be blind, and sometimes it requires difficult choices to stay true to oneself.
The tattoo gun sings its painful melody, etching the intricate design of the mark onto my forearm. The sensation is both agonizing and cathartic, a physical manifestation of the transformation happening within me. I watch as the ink penetrates my skin, leaving behind a permanent reminder of my resolve to break free from the clutches of the Angels.
And I can feel the sensation he told me about…and I know that, as soon as we get back, I’m tearing Aisling’s clothes off and fucking her until the sun comes up.
As Micah finishes the final strokes, he steps back to inspect his handiwork. The mark is stunning, a simple star on my forearm. It’s more than just a tattoo; it’s a symbol of defiance, a declaration of my independence.
“You’re done,” Micah announces, wiping away the excess ink and blood with a clean cloth. “Who’s next?”
Ais slides into the chair after me, and I watch as she goes through the same process. The ink continues to seep into Aisling’s skin, turning a deep, rich shade of black—forming a cluster of stars that wind up her shoulder, over the scars from all the bite marks we’ve placed on her. As she winces, I grip her hand tighter, feeling a sense of pride and fear all at once.
Oberon is next, and his tattoo is even bolder than ours, a bold and intricate pattern of intertwined circles and stars—meant to symbolize his abandonment of the Eclipse. Micah gives me a pointed look when he sees Oberon’s previous gang mark, but he doesn’t say anything…which is good, because my head is suddenly spinning at Aisling’s scent.
She’s turned on from the ink…more than I was.
She grips my hand as we watch Oberon get his tattoo, her breath coming in shorter and shorter gasps.
“Are you…?” she starts.
I nod, my jaw tight. “Horny as hell? Yeah.”
Micah snorts. “That’ll be the ink—sorry. It’s basically like…getting ten times the hit of pheromones as you would from a normal bite. This is just part of the process.”
“Can you make it move faster so I can get out of here and fuck my pack?” Ais asks.
Oberon chuckles and I almost choke on my words.
“Fuck, Ais.”
