Imagine if Vampire Academy, Red Rising, and a really unhinged therapist’s notebook all got tossed into a blender and someone said, “What if we actually committed to the bit?” That’s this book.
We’ve got Eris Dragov, anxious disaster princess with battle trauma, prophetic nightmares, and an emotional support sword, stuck in a Summit that’s basically the G8 but with more fangs and war crimes. She’s torn between:
• Stephan, the “I will burn the world but also fold your laundry” crown prince.
• Kareon, the Lycan warlord who talks like a death goddess’s hype man and kisses like a religious experience.
Love triangle, you ask? Oh no. This is a love pentagram powered by generational trauma, political coups, and spirit magic.
The worldbuilding is gloriously extra: Firstblood nobility, the Obsidian Order being awful on purpose, Lycans oppressed and furious, humans at the very bottom, and everyone drinking synthetic blood while pretending they’re civilized. Spoiler: they are not civilized. They are catastrophically hot and terrible at communication.
Highlights:
• The drama: Unsent letters, sleepwalking humiliation caught on magic “comm-orbs,” and at least three scenes where someone thinks “I’ll leave so I don’t burden them” and you want to throw the book at their head. Affectionately.
• The romance: Melt-your-brain kisses, slow-burn years of pining, “touch her and die” energy, and sex scenes that are equal parts tender and, “Sir, this is a fantasy novel, not a structural stress test for a bedframe.”
• The politics: Councils, war councils, semi-divine omens everyone immediately misinterprets, and at least one coronation powered by “we’re calling this fate so we don’t have to admit we all made bad choices.”
Tone-wise, this book lives in the space between “I’d die for you” and “I’d kill for you” and frequently chooses “why not both?” People are always kneeling, swearing oaths, and making catastrophically intense declarations that had no business being that hot on a Tuesday.
Is it subtle? Absolutely not. This book is all-caps feelings, knife-to-the-throat intimacy, and “if you die, I die, and also the gods might get involved.” But it’s also about family, chosen and blood, trying very hard not to repeat the same cursed history, and asking whether power can exist without devouring love along the way.
If you like:
• Enemies-to-lovers-to-traumatized-allies
• Political fantasy where every treaty is one argument away from a duel
• Her: “I’ll save everyone.” Him: “I’ll save you.” Third guy: “I will absolutely help ruin your life emotionally.”
…then you’re probably the exact target audience.
Tentative rating: 4.5/5 “Dragovs don’t cower” speeches, rounded up because the angst-per-page ratio is truly elite.
Would 100% read the sequel, then lie down on the floor about it.