In the rebuilt wreckage of a world long ago destroyed by gods, the only chance of survival is to live in the moment. No one knows that better than Lis, a former street urchin who has found temporary protection within the estate of a semi-divine Baron of Archwood, but only if she uses her unusual intuition to give him intel on her fellow lowborn (read: mortal) allies and foes. Reluctant to return to picking pockets and scraping by, Lis and her foster-brother Grady are happy to keep their heads down and play their parts… until the appearance of the divine warriors known as Hyhborn threatens the peace of the only home they’ve known. They are led by the enigmatic Lord Thorne, Prince of Vyrtus, who frustrates and intoxicates Lis in equal measure with her inability to learn anything about him—and his desires—except what he’ll tell her. And what he does share with her breaks her entire sense of the world, and herself, challenging her and other lowborn to envision an entirely new future.
For her first romantasy with Bramble, the prolific Jennifer L. Armentrout maps a familiar tale of forbidden love onto a post-apocalyptic fantasy setting whose inspirations are unmistakable biblical. This makes for a diverting drama that grapples both with the meaning of true intimacy (contrasted with pleasures of the flesh) as well as loftier philosophical questions about human foibles and failings, and whether a higher power should be wielding their weapons (magical and carnal) over these puny mortals who are probably doomed to repeat their past sins.
Though Fall of Ruin and Wrath is set in an era caught between a forgotten past and a world-shattering future just over the horizon, it would seem to be filled with unremarkable lowborn caught up in their petty squabbles over land and power. Only nine mortal cities remain after the devastation of the prior age, each overseen by a royal guardian.
For most of the year, the Hyhborn (or Deminyen) are distant, cruel protectors, sequestered in their otherworldly court at Primvera; if they interact with lowborn, it likely isn’t for a good reason. The exception to that rule is the annual Feasts, at which the benevolent Hyhborn shower the lowborn with more food than they could eat in a year—and when they take mortal lovers and feed off their pleasures. In this arena, their reputations precede them in scandalized whispers, but Lis is the rare person to note how imbalanced it is to offer to feed the starving on the one night that they will be too distracted with delights of the flesh to appreciate being satiated with food.
But the circumstances under which Lis encounters “her” Hyhborn lord—despite reminding herself, in frustrating repetition, that she has no claim to him despite their shared past—are far less pleasant. When her intuition leads her to venture into Archwood’s darker corners, she discovers Lord Thorne—the same Hyhborn who saved her life when she was an orphan child—wounded, his blood and other body parts to be mined for the black market. Though Lis often reflects on her big mouth and intuition getting her into trouble, interfering enough to save Thorne is uncharacteristic for her, as she has grown complacent within Baron Claude’s court.
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Fall of Ruin and Wrath
Once Lis saves Thorne, their lives become intertwined, from him wryly referring to her as na’laa—a teasing endearment whose many meanings he playfully withholds—to their paths crossing multiple times under Claude’s eye, while the Baron weighs how much support to offer as a lowborn army of rebels prepare to wage war on the Hyhborn. When Thorne demands Lis’ company during his stay at Archwood, she experiences the simultaneous thrill of being used—and maybe even wanted—by a sexy immortal, and the stomach-plummeting dread of becoming more immersed in divine politics than she ever wanted to be.
The worldbuilding is detailed enough, but related in the breathless infodump of two kindred spirits trading intimacies with one another in a condensed span of time. Which is fitting for Lis and Thorne’s dynamic, but it may leave a more traditional fantasy reader wishing that the lore itself were delivered as more of a slow burn. A deeper exploration of the more fascinating details, like the black market of Hyhborn bodies, is discarded in favor of epic reveals about the world before. (If your brain, like mine, snagged on the usage of terms like “sweater” and “light switch,” you might have some educated guesses.)
Armentrout employs a wisely lighter touch on the hefty emotional stakes—that is, Lis’ interpersonal dynamics due to the other aspect of her intuition. If she touches someone, she can see into their mind, which is what keeps her fed and protected under Claude’s roof, but which also keeps her at a figurative distance. She either imposes a no-touch policy with the people she’s closest to, like Grady, or finds that it shapes her kinks, like enjoying being touched when she can’t touch the other person back.
But lo and behold, if she touches a Deminyen, she can’t hear a thing. So of course she is drawn to Thorne from the start, more than happy to accommodate his odd requests like bathing him, because it brings her unexpected pleasure to be able to just touch without stealing something. And as he feeds on her pleasure, it creates a positive feedback loop between them.
For a meet-cute that involves a lot of naked flesh and soapy water, Lis and Thorne’s romance ratchets up the tension with each encounter, always stopping right before what will truly bond them, whether that’s a certain sex act or a specific admission of key information. Their dynamic is also characterized by a fair amount of teasing regarding Hyhborn tendency to demand without asking, with Lis teaching the immortal about consent and free will in somewhat repetitive scenes that will come across as sexy, or funny, or infuriating, depending on the reader.
It’s somewhat of a disappointment, then, when the plot crystallizes around Lis’ discovery that she is more special than other mortals, which begins to explain her uncanny bond with Thorne. When she was operating under the belief that it was her ingrained sense of helping strangers despite owing them nothing, propelled by her typical impetuosity, it created interesting tension as to why a lowborn was meddling in Hyhborn affairs. Once there was a whisper that she was less inserting herself than reclaiming a spot, the stakes shifted into something less compelling.
After all of the breathless anticipation building up to the Feasts and how they will coincide with the movements of various lowborn and Hyhborn armies, there’s quite the payoff with an orgy, though not the kind readers will be expecting. Fall of Ruin and Wrath ends on a clear cliffhanger that feels a bit rushed for the key information it imparts, but if you’ve become invested in Lis and Thorne by this point, it’ll be the perfect twist of the knife. This first book has only presaged the eponymous fall; there is the promise of ruin (the sexy kind) and wrath (who can say) aplenty in future installments.
Fall of Ruin and Wrath is available from Bramble.
Read an excerpt here.
Natalie Zutter is curious to explore more romantasy as compared to fantasy romance. Share your favorites with her on Twitter and Bluesky!
