This book was not what I expected.
Here are the reasons I devoured it like I’d been trekking across a barren desert for weeks:
- The setting.
The Fae and the humans have a perilous truce in Eastern Europe, and no city is more imperiled than Budapest. There are slums that reminded me of descriptions I’ve read of London’s Seven Dials, and the pampered, privileged class are completely unaware of hardship in their ivory palaces.
But Brex is a daredevil who wants one last taste of freedom. She gets caught and is sentenced to a prison the likes of Azkahban.
- The plot.
It’s a cross between Gladiator and Labyrinth. There are elements of the myth of the Golden Fleece. The prize isn’t a sacred scrap of wool, though — it’s a hot as hell warrior.
- The characters.
Brexley. She is scrappy, stupidly rebellious, but you can’t help but admire her complete disregard for danger. She is determined to survive.
Warwick. He is enigmatic and untouchable. He gives nothing away.
They are inexorably drawn to each other.
- The conclusion
The cliffhanger of all cliffhangers. I am a puddle on the floor.
This book was imaginative, fierce and fiery. I cannot wait to read the next one.