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laurenbacawx 's review for:
White Horse Black Nights
by Evie Marceau
Some stories don’t just unfurl across the page, they reverberate. [b:White Horse Black Nights|195934852|White Horse Black Nights (The Godkissed Bride, #1)|Evie Marceau|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1691524968l/195934852._SY75_.jpg|197942597] is one of those rare books. It shattered me. It seduced me. And in the end, it left me both hollowed and whole.
From the first brutal scene—Sabine forced to ride bare across a kingdom into a future she didn’t choose—I knew this would be more than just a dark fantasy romance. This was a rebellion stitched into prose. A cry of defiance in a world built to silence women like her. But Sabine doesn’t break. She burns.
Sabine is not delicate or demure though the world keeps trying to paint her as such. She is fierce and flaring with intellect, empathy, and grit. She isn’t just a character I rooted for; she’s one I believed in. I followed her every decision with my heart in my throat. Even when she was wrong, she was never weak. She fights like a woman who has tasted powerlessness and refuses to ever swallow it again.
And then there’s Wolf. Brooding and bloodied by life; more shadow than man. A huntsman forged in cruelty, raised in the ash of a noble house that never saw him as more than a dog on a leash. But Sabine sees him. And little by little, he starts to see himself through her eyes. Their relationship is a slow, agonizing unraveling of defenses. Every stolen glance. Every reluctant confession. Every line where pain and longing tangle like thorns.
“Maybe if I can figure out how she still sees the beauty in life after everything that happened to her, I can, too.”
The connection between Sabine and Wolf is truly one of the most magnetic, soul-wrenching romances I’ve ever read. I felt it. Every whisper of desire. Every moment of yearning. Their love is dangerous. Illicit. Bound to end badly. But still, I hoped. Still, I prayed for them to find a way to rewrite their fates. “She’s my world and I’m her gravity.” That line damaged me.
And we haven’t even talked about the world. Marceau’s fae magic is original and poetic in its own right. Godkissed mortals gifted with ethereal abilities. Sabine’s ability to speak with animals is brilliant and deeply symbolic of her need to be understood in a world that constantly misjudges her. Her bond with her sassy, soulful mare Myst gives this book a sense of grounding and joy amidst the darkness.
But oh, the darkness. This book hurts. It doesn't shy away from violence, trauma, or the cruel machinations of power. And yet, through it all, it carries a heartbeat of resistance. Sabine’s arc—from pawn to power, from voiceless to victor—is what I live for. She claims herself. Her fate. Her fire. “I am a force, fueled by my past, guided by the scars etched on my heart.”
When the twist at the end hit, I was unprepared. It gutted me. I sat in stunned silence clutching the book like it had betrayed me. And in a way, it had. But in the most brilliant, necessary way. Because some stories should leave a mark.
[b:White Horse Black Nights|195934852|White Horse Black Nights (The Godkissed Bride, #1)|Evie Marceau|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1691524968l/195934852._SY75_.jpg|197942597] is a triumph of voice and vision. It's a brutal, beautiful meditation on trauma, survival, and the ways love can both save and destroy us. Sabine and Wolf are two broken souls who crash into each other. Doomed from the start but dazzling in the wreckage.
And I will follow them into the dark all over again.
From the first brutal scene—Sabine forced to ride bare across a kingdom into a future she didn’t choose—I knew this would be more than just a dark fantasy romance. This was a rebellion stitched into prose. A cry of defiance in a world built to silence women like her. But Sabine doesn’t break. She burns.
Sabine is not delicate or demure though the world keeps trying to paint her as such. She is fierce and flaring with intellect, empathy, and grit. She isn’t just a character I rooted for; she’s one I believed in. I followed her every decision with my heart in my throat. Even when she was wrong, she was never weak. She fights like a woman who has tasted powerlessness and refuses to ever swallow it again.
And then there’s Wolf. Brooding and bloodied by life; more shadow than man. A huntsman forged in cruelty, raised in the ash of a noble house that never saw him as more than a dog on a leash. But Sabine sees him. And little by little, he starts to see himself through her eyes. Their relationship is a slow, agonizing unraveling of defenses. Every stolen glance. Every reluctant confession. Every line where pain and longing tangle like thorns.
“Maybe if I can figure out how she still sees the beauty in life after everything that happened to her, I can, too.”
The connection between Sabine and Wolf is truly one of the most magnetic, soul-wrenching romances I’ve ever read. I felt it. Every whisper of desire. Every moment of yearning. Their love is dangerous. Illicit. Bound to end badly. But still, I hoped. Still, I prayed for them to find a way to rewrite their fates. “She’s my world and I’m her gravity.” That line damaged me.
And we haven’t even talked about the world. Marceau’s fae magic is original and poetic in its own right. Godkissed mortals gifted with ethereal abilities. Sabine’s ability to speak with animals is brilliant and deeply symbolic of her need to be understood in a world that constantly misjudges her. Her bond with her sassy, soulful mare Myst gives this book a sense of grounding and joy amidst the darkness.
But oh, the darkness. This book hurts. It doesn't shy away from violence, trauma, or the cruel machinations of power. And yet, through it all, it carries a heartbeat of resistance. Sabine’s arc—from pawn to power, from voiceless to victor—is what I live for. She claims herself. Her fate. Her fire. “I am a force, fueled by my past, guided by the scars etched on my heart.”
When the twist at the end hit, I was unprepared. It gutted me. I sat in stunned silence clutching the book like it had betrayed me. And in a way, it had. But in the most brilliant, necessary way. Because some stories should leave a mark.
[b:White Horse Black Nights|195934852|White Horse Black Nights (The Godkissed Bride, #1)|Evie Marceau|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1691524968l/195934852._SY75_.jpg|197942597] is a triumph of voice and vision. It's a brutal, beautiful meditation on trauma, survival, and the ways love can both save and destroy us. Sabine and Wolf are two broken souls who crash into each other. Doomed from the start but dazzling in the wreckage.
And I will follow them into the dark all over again.