Buckle up for a ride with dragons, romance, and a dash of “meh.”

First off, can we talk about the premise? Dragons ruling Ancient Rome? I was sold faster than a tween at a boyband concert. Julianus or “Julian”, our broody dragon-shifter general, spots Malina, a fierce Dacian dancer, and his inner lizard goes full-on heart-eyes emoji. Years later, he snags her from a battlefield like she’s the last slice of pizza at a party before she’s assaulted by one of his centurions. The setup screams epic, and I was ready to swoon harder than I did when I first saw Theo James. 

The spice? Oh, it’s there—simmering like a pot of gumbo on a Louisiana stove (shoutout to Cross’s roots). Julianus is all “touch her and die,” and I’m over here giggling and kicking my feet, because protective winged boys are my kryptonite. 

Of course there’s a big ol’ <b>but</b> coming because it’s me… it didn’t fully ignite for me. The romance prospect had potential even though it was insta-love on Julian’s side (not a insta-love fan ever), but the plot? It’s like when your GPS says “recalculating” mid-trip…. And then it veers off into a cul-de-sac, or tries to take you off a bridge (that happened to me in Mobile!). I wanted more political intrigue, more dragon-on-dragon smackdowns, not just longing stares and vibes. And the ending? Abrupt as the movie cutting off right before something happens. 

So. I’m not sure if I’ll read book two, the end was a lot to be desired, though I do want my girl Camilla to get her lick in on Igniculis.