I should preface this by saying that I really enjoyed Iron Flame. After Fourth Wing reignited my love for fast-paced, high-stakes fantasy, I was ready for the next chapter in Violet’s journey, and Rebecca Yarros absolutely delivered.
This book was huge, and yet, I devoured it. The tension, the battles, the dragons—everything felt bigger, bolder, and even more intense. Violet continues to prove why she’s one of my favorite protagonists: she’s strategic, resilient, and still deeply human in the face of impossible odds. And Xaden? Be still my heart. Their dynamic kept me glued to the pages, and the slow unraveling of new twists only heightened the stakes.
Was it long? Sure. But for me, every moment was worth it. Yarros managed to deepen the lore, ramp up the emotional impact, and craft some jaw-dropping reveals that left me reeling. If Fourth Wing hooked me, Iron Flame cemented my investment in this series.
Incidentally, I stopped reading at a point I was happy with rather than pushing through to the actual end—just so I could emotionally cope with the wait for Onyx Storm. That’s how much this series means to me. I’ve read the ending now, a couple weeks before Onyx, when I was doing a full re-read up to this point, and holy hell. I made the right choice.
I was terrified for where the characters wind up, but I am so keen to see how their journeys unfold. Also, Jack Fucking Barlow—what a menace. Every time he showed up, I wanted to throw my book across the room. But I was also terrified for the ending itself, as I had heard that Rebecca Yarros writes on a W. And, please don’t come at me, but I kinda feel sorry for Dain.
Story Time – The Best of People:
Supernova Sydney was chaos. Rebecca Yarros was speaking, the crowd was massive, and the energy was electric. I had Iron Flame in my bag, my wonderful hubby by my side, and a plan: listen to her speak, then get in line to have my book signed. Easy, right?
Wrong.
By the time I made my way over, the line was already at capacity. Even with the one-book-per-person rule, I was out of luck. Deflated but trying not to let it ruin my day, I resigned myself to just basking in the bookish atmosphere. But my husband? He had other plans.
He marched straight to the front of the line, spotted a group of friends, and found the first girl who wasn’t holding a book. With the confidence of a man on a mission, he asked if she’d be willing to take mine through for me.
She said yes.
That girl—who I owe many thanks and an abundance of hugs—took my book, got it signed, and handed it back to me with a smile. Just like that, my day was saved. It was a reminder that the book community, at its heart, is full of generous, wonderful people. And my husband? He’s the real MVP, pulling magic out of nowhere and making sure I walked away with a signed copy.
I will never stop being grateful for both of them.
Books, Boots and Bakeries 
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