Atlas Stories Novels & Stories

But, a whole collection of a slave would be in fact more than abnormal. "Nyx, I'm serious." She whined. "No, you're not." I argued, shaking my head. "But, I am." She said, her tone firm and serious. "Really?" I teased, raising my brows. "Seriously, only your paintings are in the drawers and table of his usual desk." She spilled, making my heart take a flip. "I want to try reading this short story." Aurora said, showing me a little story book as she sat beside me. With nothing left to do, out of curiosity to see more of what Atlas has created I flipped through the pages of his journal, my excitement was short lived as I stumbled upon a shocking revelation.

“Ask me again in six months. I’ll probably have different answer.” “What will you do with all this free time?” Luna wondered. “Travel. Read. Spend time with grandchildren when you all eventually have them. Maybe write memoir about transformation from rejected omega to continental changemaker.” “You should write it,” Atlas said. “Your story deserves to be documented. Preserved. Passed to future generations.” “Maybe. We’ll see. For now, I’m just enjoying not having crisis meetings every morning.” We sat together in comfortable silence, watching sunset over Crescent Ridge territory. Territory I’d led for quarter century. Territory that would thrive under Atlas’s leadership.

In the confines of Atlas's study, I couldn't help but notice the presence of a photograph depicting my dear mother resting atop the table, confirming Atlas's prior claim. However, a sense of unease crept in as I gazed upon the subsequent photograph. Atlas and his mother were engaged in conversation within the confines of the study. According to Ryder, it was the day before my mother was killed. In the photograph, Atlas donned a jacket of a soft blue hue. However, the memory of selecting his attire for that particular day remained vividly etched in my mind. I selected a beige overcoat for him, which he donned for the duration of the day.

~2 months later~ The press has been relentless. Always trying to snap photos of me. Of Atlas. Of us together. We always made the headlines. “CEO Atlas Jones and new girlfriend Calliope Blackwood” “Calliope Blackwood, A Gold Digger?” Atlas eventually decided to hold a press conference to address the issues publically. I haven’t been feeling good lately. I’m laying on the couch cuddled up with not so small Titan watching it live.

He didn't look away; he just tracked me with a look that was intense and hungry. I’m so sorry. The thought that he saw me as a challenge made my pride flare, even as Selah retreated. My lips pulled into a tiny smirk. 'Not mine,' she muttered. "I know a lot of things," Atlas said. His voice was steady, his jaw set. The challenge in his voice made me narrow my eyes. I pointed a finger at the stone fountain. "Fine, genius. Explain that, then." "It’s a wolf," he said simply. "With snakes on its legs."

I would normally just brush it off and apologize, but my mind just blanked for some reason earlier. I still don't understand why these people are suddenly gaining colors. Why specifically these people? It's not even limited to the people at school anymore since Al's obviously from somewhere else. It just doesn't make sense. It's not like I know them from anywhere else. I wish I knew something more about my illness so I could at least stop being so confused. Come to think of it, I haven't even told Aunt Autumn about any of what happened. Maybe she can somehow help me understand. I doubt it, but I can still hope for answers.

In the memory of her parents, she made Celirium a place where both Seelie and Unseelie Courts can prosper and live as one. This legend is my favorite. Of course, every culture has its own gods and legends. Some believed in the great cauldron, another in the rainbow bridge, mother earth, and so on. I was born in a culture with a bunch of gods. The main ones are Detryx and Laykara, the gods of equilibrium. Only logic to choose them if it is to follow the legend.

For this reason, I decided to move all then into strange short stories, that is already a storybook of different themes. The w******l policy does not allow me to remove or delete those books, so they will remain there but as a "paused" book. You can find only the introduction of those books on w******l and no else more. But there you can find some covers I made for those stories and that I can not upload here. The stories of a single chapter will continue to be published, of course. Each volume of Strange short stories will have 3 medium-sized stories and about 10 short stories.

I asked. Atlas leaned back slightly. “We’ve integrated, and we live among humans now, like I told you. As you can see, we’re in Palm Springs, where there are humans, but they have no idea we exist.” He explained, and my face scrunched up. “That sounds fake.” “But it’s not.” “Our packs own businesses and… “What kind of businesses?” I interrupted him. “All kinds of businesses, Scarlett.” “We invest. We own companies, restaurants, hotels, construction firms, and even security companies.” He said, and my jaw dropped in shock.

" He asks, starting to cry from the relief. "I am alright, Atlas…" Atlene says, crying shamelessly. "But why can't you see me though? I am right here, in this house in front of you." Atlas turns, looking lost. "I can't see you, man. I don't see you… What is happening? I need to see you, man." He cries, struggling to hide and stifle his emotions, but failing anyway. "Look! The kite!" Ringan suddenly shouts, pointing, and Atlene stands beside her, and they hurriedly start reciting the Parable of the Lost Cause. They went as fast as they could, barely slowing down enough to breathe.