Susan
You can’t beat a book that ends with: "I think I’m happy. It’s been a while, but I’m getting to know what that feels like again."
That final note, carrying an overture to future stories, offers a satisfying resolution while leaving room for more.
Much has been revealed about Jin’s world. And Kadrin, who I am half in love with, has grown into a force to be reckoned with from all that he has learned and experienced in these two books. His Talentlessness, introduced in Book One, has revealed itself to be a defining strength—a door through which his empathy empowers him. When stopped on the street after an attack, a woman calls for help, and Kadrin feels an unexpected relief—he’d rather be using his own two hands than drowning in Council paperwork. That moment solidifies his identity as someone who stands for action over status, revealing the man that both Jin and Yi-Nereen were the first to recognize—and which Lee always hinted at to the reader. This is the man that brought these characters together, allowing each to be their truest self.
Their relationship—strained and uncertain at the end of Road to Ruin—continues evolving in Flight of the Fallen in ways that defy convention. This isn't a simple romance between Jin and Kadrin—it’s a polyamorous bond, complex, shifting, and deeply felt. Jin isn’t just caught between desire and duty; she’s navigating a love that refuses to be confined by rules or tradition. She lives and loves as she always has—true to herself, never confined by convention. The emotional stakes aren’t just about who chooses whom—but about what it means to truly belong to another in a world built on division.
Jin remains the lovable rogue with an uncontainable heart, and Screech? He’s back—with surprises of his own. Banter and longing, angst and action weave together in a narrative that demands you turn the next page.
This story grows out of its predecessor—it’s not a standalone, but a natural evolution. It answers lingering questions, bringing Jin’s relationships into sharper focus. The characters step fully into themselves, making this book even more satisfying than Book One—as great duologies should.
This was too vast a story to fit into a single volume. Lee masterfully crafts a balance between tension and resolution, allowing the journey to unfold with the ending she always had in mind.
I will absolutely be reading more by Hanna Lee—her skill and imagination are as expansive, intriguing, and unpredictable as Jin’s love life.
You can’t beat a book that ends with: "I think I’m happy. It’s been a while, but I’m getting to know what that feels like again."
That final note, carrying an overture to future stories, offers a satisfying resolution while leaving room for more.
Much has been revealed about Jin’s world. And Kadrin, who I am half in love with, has grown into a force to be reckoned with from all that he has learned and experienced in these two books. His Talentlessness, introduced in Book One, has revealed itself to be a defining strength—a door through which his empathy empowers him. When stopped on the street after an attack, a woman calls for help, and Kadrin feels an unexpected relief—he’d rather be using his own two hands than drowning in Council paperwork. That moment solidifies his identity as someone who stands for action over status, revealing the man that both Jin and Yi-Nereen were the first to recognize—and which Lee always hinted at to the reader. This is the man that brought these characters together, allowing each to be their truest self.
Their relationship—strained and uncertain at the end of Road to Ruin—continues evolving in Flight of the Fallen in ways that defy convention. This isn't a simple romance between Jin and Kadrin—it’s a polyamorous bond, complex, shifting, and deeply felt. Jin isn’t just caught between desire and duty; she’s navigating a love that refuses to be confined by rules or tradition. She lives and loves as she always has—true to herself, never confined by convention. The emotional stakes aren’t just about who chooses whom—but about what it means to truly belong to another in a world built on division.
Jin remains the lovable rogue with an uncontainable heart, and Screech? He’s back—with surprises of his own. Banter and longing, angst and action weave together in a narrative that demands you turn the next page.
This story grows out of its predecessor—it’s not a standalone, but a natural evolution. It answers lingering questions, bringing Jin’s relationships into sharper focus. The characters step fully into themselves, making this book even more satisfying than Book One—as great duologies should.
This was too vast a story to fit into a single volume. Lee masterfully crafts a balance between tension and resolution, allowing the journey to unfold with the ending she always had in mind.
I will absolutely be reading more by Hanna Lee—her skill and imagination are as expansive, intriguing, and unpredictable as Jin’s love life.