Onyx Storm Review

(Tokyo, 3:17 AM. The neon glow of Shinjuku bleeds through the train window as I clutch my copy of Onyx Storm, its pages trembling in sync with the rattling rails. Outside, the city howls—a tempest of light and sound. Inside, Rebecca Yarros’ words hum like live wires, electrifying the stale air. I’d planned to sleep. Instead, Violet Sorrengail’s storm swallowed me whole.)

Characters: When Lightning Becomes a Compass

Let’s cut to the chase: Violet Sorrengail isn’t just a protagonist. She’s a live grenade with a PhD in survival. Eighteen months at Basgiath War College have sanded her edges into blades, yet Yarros keeps her achingly human—vulnerable, furious, alive. (Ever met someone who’s equal parts wildfire and whispered prayer? That’s Violet.)

Her dragons, Tairn and Andarna, aren’t mere plot devices. Tairn’s voice rumbles through the pages like thunder over a mountain range—wise, ancient, terrifying. Andarna? Imagine a sparkler in a gunpowder factory: dazzling, unpredictable, and dangerously loyal. Their bond isn’t written; it’s forged. (Dragons don’t do sidekick energy. They do symbiosis—or mutual destruction.)

Then there’s Xaden Riorson. Oh, Xaden. The man’s a walking paradox: shadow-wielder, lover, walking moral quandary. His chemistry with Violet? Electrifying as a downed power line. But here’s the kicker—Yarros doesn’t let their romance eclipse the stakes. It’s a lifeline, not a crutch. (Though, let’s be real: when he whispers, “You’re all that matters to me,” even the subway’s fluorescent lights feel dimmer.)

A Rollercoaster Through a Hurricane

Picture this: crumbling wards, venomous political schemes, and a quest for allies in lands so vividly described you’ll taste the iron tang of magic in the air. Onyx Storm isn’t a book—it’s a 500-page adrenaline drip.

Violet’s mission? Simple: save Navarre. The execution? A gauntlet of betrayals, dragon battles, and truths that hit like a sledgehammer. Yarros’ world-building? Masterful. New territories unfurl like poisoned flowers—beautiful, deadly, unforgettable. (One scene in a crystalline cave had me holding my breath—claustrophobia never felt so poetic.)

But. (There’s always a but.) The pacing? Let’s call it… ambitious. The first 100 pages crawl like a sleep-deprived sloth. You’ll slog through political machinations, side characters with the depth of puddles. Then—bam—the storm hits. Battles erupt. Alliances shatter. And you’re left white-knuckling the book, wondering how paper cuts haven’t drawn blood yet.

When the Silence Screams

Here’s the thing about Onyx Storm: it doesn’t just make you feel. It staples emotions into your ribs. Trust? A frayed rope you cling to, even as it burns. Sacrifice? A blade twisted slowly. (That scene where Violet confronts Dain? I needed a therapy dragon.)

Yarros weaponizes silence like a pro. Moments where words dissolve, and all you hear is the click of a dagger unsheathing, the crack of a bond breaking. The silence isn’t empty—it’s heavy. A leaden blanket smothering hope. (Ever cried over a fictional dragon’s whimper? Welcome to the club.)

And the romance—gods. It’s not just kisses and whispered promises. It’s Xaden’s hands trembling as he resists dark magic. Violet’s rage when her heart wars with duty. Their love isn’t a spark; it’s a supernova in a cage. (Yeah, I highlighted half the book. No regrets.)

Final Verdict: Chase the Storm (But Pack Armor)

So, should you read Onyx Storm? Let’s break it down:

1. For dragon addicts: Tairn alone is worth the price of admission.
2. Romantasy lovers: Xaden and Violet’s tension could power a small nation.
3. Plot connoisseurs: Once the storm hits, you’ll forget the slow start.

Is it perfect? Nah. The pacing wobbles and some side characters vanish like smoke. (Looking at you, Broccoli—yes, that’s a dragon’s name. Don’t ask.)

But here’s the kicker: perfection’s overrated. Onyx Storm isn’t polished marble. It’s cracked obsidian—sharp, beautiful, liable to cut you open. So, if you’re craving a story that claws into your soul and roars? Dive in. Just don’t blame me when you’re sobbing at 3 AM, Tokyo neon flickering outside, and the echo of dragons in your ears.

(Train brakes screech. The book slips from my hands. Pages flutter—a storm contained. I step onto the platform, my heart racing. Somewhere, a dragon laughs.)

Click here to listen to Onix Storm Audiobook for free