The Tyger Tattoo

  Fairytale Mates Book 14

  Hawke Oakley

  Contents

  Hawke’s Newsletter

  1. Brady

  2. Tj

  3. Brady

  4. Tj

  5. Brady

  6. Tj

  7. Brady

  8. Tj

  9. Brady

  10. Tj

  Also by Hawke Oakley

  Copyright © 2023 by Hawke Oakley

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Created with Vellum

  Hawke’s Newsletter

  You’ll receive an exclusive short story by signing up for my newsletter! You will also be the first to know about new releases and sales.

  Sign Up Here

  One

  Brady

  “So... hot,” I groaned as sweat rolled down my forehead.

  Despite the roasting ninety-degree temperature outside, I was stuck in a long-sleeved shirt.

  Maybe stuck wasn’t the right word. I could technically roll up my sleeve at any time, or even wear a T-shirt.

  But that meant revealing a heinous, cringe-worthy, permanent ink blob that took up a decent chunk of real estate on my forearm.

  Yeah, it was a blob. I didn’t even want to call that abomination “art.”

  “It’s not that hot, Daddy,” Kiara pointed out. My young daughter bounced along the street beside me in an airy blue sundress. She was clearly handling the temperature better.

  “You’re right. Should I change into a dress right now, too?” I asked with a grin.

  She giggled. “No! Not in the middle of the street!”

  I mimed taking off the bottom of my shirt. “Nope, I’m ready to put on a dress right now. You got one for me, Kiara?”

  That sent her into hysterics. The idea of her dad disrobing in public was peak humor to a six-year-old.

  “I guess not,” I said, leaving my shirt on when she didn’t manifest a dress out of thin air. “I’ll keep walking around like this, then.”

  Kiara gazed at my covered arm curiously. She looked like she wanted to ask something, but her attention was stolen by a toy store. She nearly pushed me into the street as she ran over to the window, ogling the huge stuffed animals and figurine sets.

  I let out a mild sigh of relief. The hideous tattoo on my arm existed before Kiara was born, so she’d known about it her whole life. But now that I wanted to get it covered up, I didn’t know how to field her potential questions.

  It was a permanent reminder of her alpha father, Corey. My ex.

  My lying, cheating, dirtbag ex.

  It was a problem of my own making. The tattoo was an ugly reminder of a drunken night six and a half years ago when Corey and I thought it was an amazing decision to get matching tattoos. We were young and dumb, as most twenty-year-olds who think they’re in love are. It seemed like a good plan at the time.

  In hindsight, it was one of the worst decisions I’d ever made... second to dating Corey.

  The tattoo studio had been seedy. It had reeked of cigarette smoke and alcohol—or maybe that was the memory of my own drunkenness. The shop clearly cared more about money than safety. I’d signed a quick waiver, then the “artist” went ahead and started on my arm even though I clearly wasn’t sober. I counted myself lucky it didn’t get infected.

  Corey pressured me to go first. Back then I was so eager to please him, I would’ve done anything he asked.

  So after submitting to the pain for two hours, I was left with a shaky-handed, awful tattoo... of Corey’s name in a bright red heart.

  Yeah. It was that bad.

  To add insult to injury, Corey chickened out the second the needle touched his skin. Despite the whole thing being his idea, he weaseled out of his matching tattoo. So I was left with a permanent blob on my skin while Corey got away scot-free.

  At the time, I felt sympathy for him. I figured he was a sensitive alpha, so of course he didn’t like the pain.

  “Omegas are better at tolerating pain, right? Childbirth and all?” Corey had said to me with a snarky grin.

  I laughed back then. But now that I knew how he treated omegas, it wasn’t funny.

  As Kiara gushed over the giant stuffed animals, I rubbed my arm self-consciously, making sure it was still covered. The heat was bad, but the ugly tattoo was worse. Since my chaotic break-up with Corey two weeks ago, I’d searched desperately for an artist to cover it up.

  But I was nervous. I obviously didn’t have a good track record at finding a reputable tattoo studio. None of my friends had tattoos, so asking them was out. So I took matters into my own hands. I spent hours poring over online reviews of any shops in a fifty-mile radius, and all of them were booked up for months. Who knew people were so desperate for tattoos?

  I sighed, pulling down my sleeve. It felt hopeless. It wasn’t just a tattoo to me—it represented a rocky past, and everything I wanted to leave behind. When I broke up with Corey, I wanted a fresh start. A cover-up tattoo would finally let me move on.

  But if I couldn’t find a proper artist to cover up my abomination, I’d bake to death in this heat. Spring had just started, and all of summer loomed ahead... Was I stuck wearing long-sleeved shirts forever?

  “Are you done window shopping?” I asked Kiara, whose face was glued to the toy store window.

  Kiara sighed dramatically. I wonder where she got that from.

  “Yeah,” she said, pulling herself away from the giant teddy.

  I took her hand and smiled. She was a smart kid and mature for her age. After splitting with her alpha father, I was on my own financially. We had food and a roof over our heads, but we didn’t have enough for frivolous purchases. Although I never told Kiara about our changed financial situation, she must’ve figured it out on her own and chose not to beg for toys she didn’t need.

  But that didn’t mean we had zero spending money. As Kiara skipped by the toy store, she stopped and gasped at the shop next door.

  “Daddy, look! It’s so pretty!” she cried.

  I gazed into the window. Huge live plants decorated the front bay window, surrounding a small, delicate water fountain. I couldn’t see much beyond the green leaves except a few massage tables.

  “Looks like a spa,” I commented.

  Kiara grabbed my hand and gave me her best pair of puppy eyes. “Can we get our nails painted? Please?”

  I smiled at her. She never asked for much, and we could definitely afford a couple manicures. After all the stress, a father-daughter day at the spa sounded perfect.

  “Oh, what the heck.” I shrugged. “Why not?”

  Kiara’s face brightened. “Yay!”

  I cast a quick glance at the shop’s sign before heading inside. There was a coat of arms featuring an animal, which was odd for a spa, but I paid it no mind. As soon as we stepped in, it was obvious how clean and professional the store was. Soft, unobtrusive music played in the background, and the air smelled fresh because of all the plants. An instant sense of peace and calm washed over me.

  The spa looked empty. If that was the case, it was my and Kiara’s lucky day. We’d have the place all to ourselves.

  There was nobody at the counter, so I called out, “Hello?”

  “Just one moment!” a male voice called gently from behind a divider.

  Kiara tugged impatiently on my sleeve. “I wanna get pink. Ooh, or purple! Or blue... Can I get both?”

  “You can get all three if you want,” I said.

  She beamed excitedly.

  “Sorry for the wait,” the man said.

  Then he appeared at the front counter, and I went breathless.

  He was a tall alpha with messy black hair. He wore a simple black T-shirt that showed off his biceps... and his double tattoo sleeves. They ran all the way from his shoulders to his wrists. I stared at them in awe. Unlike my unattractive blob, his tattoos were pure works of art.

  And so was he. Damn. He might’ve been the sexiest man I’d ever seen in my life. I couldn’t believe such a gentle voice came from this movie star hottie.

  The man paused, looking me over. He blinked slowly, as if dazed.

  I must’ve looked so stupid standing there gawking at him. I needed to say something.

  “H-hi,” I said.

  That seemed to remind the hot guy how to speak. “Hello,” he said, smiling at both of us. “What can I do for you?”

  I could think of a long list of things...

  The dirty thought came to mind unbidden. I shoved it aside. “We—my daughter and me—we’re here for, um...”

  God, why was it so difficult to put a sentence together? Did the man’s presence zap my brain into mush? I wasn’t usually like this. I’d held conversations with plenty of attractive alphas in my life, but none of them made me weak in the knees like this tattooed man.

  Since I was babbling like a fool, Kiara took the lead. She stood up on the tips of her toes to try and reach the counter.

  “Me and Daddy wanna get manicures!” she told him.

  The man smiled at her. “Is that right?”

  “Yup!”<
br />
  Looking amused, the alpha met my eyes. “Well, that’s fun. I can’t say I’m the best at giving manicures.”

  That comment confused me. Didn’t he work at a spa? Maybe he had a different job, like the masseur or something. I certainly wouldn’t be opposed to his hands on me...

  Kiara voiced the same thought, albeit bluntly. “But it’s your job! You should give us both manicures.”

  The tattooed man blinked, going quiet for a few seconds. Then he laughed out loud. The sound was rich and warm, sending a tingle down my spine.

  “Ah, I know what happened,” he said, grinning. “You thought this was a spa, did you?”

  I tilted my head. “It’s not?”

  “Nope. But I can see why you got that impression.”

  “Then... what is it?” I asked, thoroughly baffled.

  The man nodded at us to follow him behind the divider. I peeked my head around it, eager to understand. But what I saw just confused me more. There were a pair of black leather massage chairs, along with short stools next to them for service providers to sit in. Supplies were hidden away in nondescript white drawers. The walls were covered in framed art, and more plants hung out in the back.

  “You lost me,” I admitted.

  The alpha grinned. “Maybe this will explain.”

  Reaching into one of the supply drawers, he pulled out a cordless handheld mechanical device that looked like a very thick pen. Although it looked vaguely familiar, I still didn’t understand.

  “Wow, what a cool pen!” Kiara cried. “Are you gonna draw us a picture instead?”

  “Hmm... I could draw you a picture, but not with this,” the man said. “Do you like to draw? I’ve got regular markers and paper in the back.”

  Kiara instantly forgot about the failed manicure. “Yeah! I wanna draw!”

  “Sure thing. One second.”

  I stood there, utterly confused, and the man reappeared a few moments later with a stack of paper and kid-friendly markers. He put them on a wooden table behind all the massage chairs. “There you go, Miss...?”

  “Kiara!”

  “Nice to meet you, Kiara. I’m TJ.” The tattooed alpha smiled at me. “And your dad’s name is...?”

  It took me a second to remember my own name. “Brady.”

  TJ’s black eyes sparkled with warmth. “Brady. It’s good to meet you, too.”

  Another electric tingle went down my spine. I loved the way he said my name. It was just like his laugh—full of warmth.

  Who was this man?

  Kiara sat down at the table, scribbling with the paper and markers TJ had given her. That gave me an opening to talk to him alone.

  “Sorry, I’m at a loss here,” I admitted with a weak laugh. “What could this place possibly be if not a spa?”

  TJ chuckled, his eyes glittering. He picked up the device again and waved it in his hand. “The machine didn’t give it away, huh?”

  “It looks a little familiar...”

  It was a newer model—cleaner and cordless—but it reminded me of the tattoo machine I’d seen years ago during the incident. But that couldn’t be right. There was no way this gorgeous place was a tattoo shop.

  “Oh?” TJ’s brows rose curiously. “Where have you seen it before?”

  I rolled my eyes. “You don’t wanna know...”

  “I do,” TJ insisted. “You have ink?”

  Surprised, I met his gaze. “I do.”

  “Can I see?”

  An embarrassed blush lit up my cheeks. “Ah... I would, but trust me, you don’t want to see it.” I rubbed my sleeve, as if the tattoo in question burned. “I’m actually in the process of trying to get it covered up.”

  Now TJ looked deeply intrigued. “You are?” A slow grin spread over his face. “Well, Brady. You’ve come to the right place.”

  “How’s that?” I asked.

  TJ gestured to the massage tables behind him. “This isn’t a spa. This is my tattoo studio—and I’m the artist.”

  Two

  Tj

  I knew from the second Brady walked in that he was something special.

  When I locked eyes on him, an ancient, magical instinct exploded to life. I felt it from the ends of my hair to the tips of my toes. It made me want to shift into my true form, stand up on my hind legs, and roar to the heavens.

  It wasn’t often I experienced that feeling. Most of the time, my instincts were buried by day-to-day life. My true nature as a tyger—a mythological heraldic beast—sunk below the surface.

  Now Brady’s gaze plunged beneath the water and dragged it back into the sun.

  A full-body chill ran through me as Brady entered my shop, but I played it cool. Like all my clients and neighbors and the people I bumped into on the street, Brady was human.

  Unlike me.

  If I courted him—and I knew deep in my bones that I had to claim him—I’d have to be extra cautious not to scare him away.

  Brady was instantly endearing. His confusion about the shop’s appearance was adorable, and it excited me when he admitted to having a tattoo. But his apprehension about it worried me. Normally, people were thrilled to show off their ink.

  When Brady said he wanted it covered up, a spark lit inside me. This must be fate. How else would a human take a wrong turn and end up in a tyger’s tattoo shop?

  After telling Brady I was the artist and owner, his sweet blue eyes widened.

  “Y-you are?” he asked, clearly embarrassed he hadn’t figured it out by now. He slapped a hand over his face. “Oh, god. It all makes sense now. How did I think this place was a spa?”

  “Did you read the sign? Heraldry Ink?” I asked, amused.

  He blushed. “I saw the coat of arms, but I didn’t actually read the text. I figured it was British or something...”

  “Britain doesn’t own heraldic imagery,” I teased.

  Brady laughed. “I know, I know. Listen, the sun clearly scrambled my brain.”

  I grinned. “It’s an honest mistake. I tried to cultivate a Zen atmosphere rather than one of heavy metal and smoking and rowdiness. There’s nothing wrong with that either, but this is more my vibe.”

  Brady’s eyes lit up. He nodded fervently as I spoke. “Yeah! The place I went before was the latter, and it wasn’t exactly the best experience...”

  His gaze darkened as he recounted the memory. There was more to this sordid story, I could tell. A protective feeling welled up in my chest. What happened to him?

  “Let’s fix that today,” I declared, giving him a soft smile.

  I saw the way Brady’s cheeks turned a dusty shade of pink. “Right. You’re a tattoo artist.”

  Gods, the way my name rolled off his tongue made me want to rake my claws down the wall.

  But he didn’t give me a chance to reply. He pouted slightly. “Ah, but you’re probably all booked up for months, just like everyone else I asked.”

  A worm of envy wriggled in my stomach. I didn’t want Brady seeing any other tattoo artist but me.

  “As a matter of fact,” I said, “my only client today cancelled. So I’m free to tackle your cover-up.”

  Brady gasped, looking like a kid during his surprise birthday party. “Wait, seriously? That would be amazing!”

  Brady was right—I was booked for months ahead. I rarely had no-shows or cancellations. People who booked me were serious clients. It truly was a miracle that my client today had called and cancelled right before Brady walked in.

  Fate wanted us to meet today, and I wasn’t going to let Brady slip from my claws.

  I grinned at him. “If you want me as your artist today, Brady, then I’m all yours.”

  That statement flustered him. He laughed airily and ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I do. I really do.”

  My heart seized with affection for this omega I just met. But it wasn’t the time to get lost in my romantic feelings—I had important work to do.