Romans & histoires Atlas Shrugged Book Reviews

"There's no date, there's also no cohesive language. It's almost like a diary that's been added to over the centuries." "Shit." I rubbed a finger over my eyebrows. "Exactly. Atlas and Taryk are going to see about getting a private showing." I raised an eyebrow. "They have that kind of clout?" Ransom chuckled. "They have enough." "What does the book say about changing into animals?"

Jia blanched at his words, but all Atlas did was tilt his head and peer into her face a little more closely when she remained silent. “Ms. Moon, I hope you didn’t think that something as banal as a legal contract would change things between us,” he continued. “You’re still very much in a vulnerable position outside the law, and I don’t envy you for it.” And that was when Jia saw the impassive, immovable Atlas Grayson smile for the first time. It reminded her of ice cubes and razor blades raking across her skin, and when she tried to shrink back, he leaned down until he was speaking directly into her ear.

or fall even harder. 3rd Person POV As Atlas left the library, the soft sound of his footsteps faded down the hall until everything fell quiet again. Behind one of the tall bookshelves, Rowan stood still, hidden in the dim light filtering through the blinds. He hadn’t moved for several minutes, just watching.

"I do. Atlas is a lot of things—arrogant, ruthless, vindictive but he has a weird sense of pride. If he realizes the game is broken, he'd rather flip the board over himself than let someone else win by default." We fell into a comfortable silence, the rhythmic hum of the Zamboni filling the empty space between us. For the first time since he had transferred into my Literature class, there were no spies watching us. There was no Charlotte waiting with a camera, no Atlas looming in the shadows, no Dean Vance threatening my future. It was just us

Without a change in expression, Atlas turned sideways to shield the woman in his arms from the glare. ***

Atlas slips his hand into the pocket, and raise his shoulder in a slight shrug, "Never become a slave to your emotions, but use them as a weapon." Atlas gives me a long look, his hand still resting on my shoulder. There’s something measured in his gaze as if he’s weighing his words before speaking. “I’m impressed,” he says finally, his voice calm but firm. “The way you handled everything inside—” he pauses for a moment, his head tilting slightly—“it didn’t go as we planned; in fact, it turned better than we had hoped for. Inside there things were tough, but you still managed to turn it in our favor.”

To become nothing at all. The seconds stretched, turned brittle, stretched further. Then—so faint I almost missed it—Atlas exhaled. Slow. His weight shifted slightly, boots pressing against the uneven wood. He didn’t step back. He didn’t turn away. If anything, I could feel the deepening scrutiny, the sharp intelligence behind those eyes sweeping every corner, every shadow, hunting. For me. The curtain twitched again, and I nearly flinched. I felt the way his fingers ghosted over the fabric, the way he lingered, just at the edge of a decision, but then from somewhere above, Ingrid’s voice rang out, sharp and indignant.

And he still affects you, even after what he did. There was a lump in her throat by the time she stood in front of the bookcase in her room. She found the atlas easily. Bound in leather with gold embossing on the spine, it stood out amid her collection of ratty paperbacks and well-read travel books. The atlas was designed to look like an antique, but inside, it was quite modern. While there were a handful of prints of gorgeous, hand-drawn maps like the one in her kitchen, most of the images were contemporary and up-to-date. She'd spent hours poring through the pages.

“Alright, no need to start swinging. What if we bring in outside help?” I let out a breath and waved my right hand toward the world beyond the room. “We’ve already got that. Even with Javi’s crew pitching in, it’s going to turn into a slaughter.” Atlas shut his eyes for a second, and I got the clear sense he thought he was dealing with a moron. I pressed my lips tight to keep from snapping at him. When he opened them again, he looked composed and focused. “I get that Javi’s on our side now. Wolves are strong. But I’m thinking beyond that. What about other shifters?”