Last updated on May 14th, 2025 at 11:56 am
Onyx Storm is the third instalment in RebeccaYarros’s epic fantasy romance saga, The Empyrean, published by Red Tower Books on January 21, 2025.
Spanning 544 pages, this novel has already achieved phenomenal success, with over 2.7 million copies sold in its first week alone, setting a record for adult fantasy novels in the last two decades, according to BookScan.
The book continues the saga of Violet Sorrengail, a dragon rider caught between loyalty, war, and love, in a world where magic is both a gift and a curse.
Categorized as high fantasy and fantasy romance, Onyx Storm weaves sweeping war arcs, visceral romance, and deeply political undertones. Its genre classification as “romantasy” is both accurate and reductive—Yarros crafts not just romantic escapism but a politically complex narrative grounded in emotional realism.
Following the critical acclaim of Fourth Wing and Iron Flame, Onyx Storm expands both the lore and the emotional stakes, thrusting Violet and her allies into deeper peril, and readers into the darker corners of Navarre’s history and the volatile world of dragonkind.
Rebecca Yarros, a U.S. Air Force wife and bestselling author, brings a raw authenticity to her work, informed by real-world military hierarchies and the emotional cost of combat. Her voice is distinct—lyrical, emotionally naked, yet ironclad in her plotting.
From a deeply personal vantage, Onyx Storm is not merely a continuation of a beloved saga—it is an eruption of character transformation, psychological complexity, and mythic stakes that demand we reframe what it means to be chosen by power.
Violet’s arc, especially in this book, is one of sacrificial resolve and the unrelenting pull of love in wartime. It is, above all, a story about control, grief, and the alchemy of becoming. Yarros does not just entertain—she evokes, unsettles, and ultimately, transforms the reader.
Table of Contents
Plot Overview (Part 1): Storms of Loyalty, Love, and War
In Onyx Storm, Rebecca Yarros unleashes an emotional tempest that transcends mere fantasy.
It opens not with a bang but with dread—deep, personal, bone-deep dread. Violet Sorrengail is not merely reeling from grief; she is being undone by it. General Sorrengail, her mother and a legendary figure at Basgiath War College, is gone. The loss is still raw. And yet, grief cannot wait—not in a world where venin, evil magic-wielders, stalk the shadows, and allies are just as dangerous as enemies.
From the very first pages, Onyx Storm envelops readers in emotional immediacy. Violet’s breath catches as she follows Xaden Riorson, her love and now a marked man.
His eyes—once flecked with gold—are ringed with dangerous strawberry-red, a sign that he has channeled power from the earth, an unforgivable act in their world. “Xaden is mine. My heart, my soul, my everything,” Violet thinks, anchoring the novel’s central emotional tension: how do you love someone who might be unraveling?
This internal battle runs parallel to a far more literal one. The Empyrean world is at war. Basgiath War College is no longer simply a brutal training ground for dragon riders—it is the last bastion of hope against a rising tide of dark magic.
The Onyx Storm Violet faces is both metaphorical and very, very real.
The kingdoms of Navarre and Poromiel find themselves forced into an uneasy alliance to stand against the venin. Politics bleed into strategy, and strategy demands sacrifice. Violet eavesdrops on a crucial meeting and learns that she must find a cure for Xaden’s soul-threatening condition.
The stakes? His life—and hers. “If I wallow in every loss, that’s all I’ll ever have time for,” she whispers to herself, a mantra that defines the grit of Onyx Storm.
Soon, Violet’s mission fractures into three parallel arcs:
Guarding Xaden – marked, watched, and feared. He remains within the college’s wards, lest he channel again and lose himself completely.
Uncovering Truth – Violet becomes a scholar-warrior, determined to understand her father’s secret research and the origins of the venin.
Quest for Irid – With Andarna, her rare second dragon, Violet seeks the seventh dragon breed—the key to powering the ancient wardstones that might protect their realm.
In Onyx Storm, Violet isn’t simply reacting. She is orchestrating—assembling squads, enlisting friends, and navigating political landmines. Even as Basgiath is attacked from within—venin masquerading as scribes, striking from the shadows—Violet rises.
She no longer seeks permission. “I will not die today. I will save him,” she promises in a personal addendum to the Book of Brennan.
A crucial early scene shows this resolve in action. As she rushes to the infirmary after a violent infiltration, she commands: “None of us die today.”
In her hands are daggers, not declarations. She leads not from a throne but from the bloodied floor of Basgiath’s dying halls. It’s an image seared into my memory, as if Yarros were holding a mirror to the soul of every reader who has ever stood between fear and love, duty and desire.
Plot Overview (Part 2): Trials, Deaths, and Revelations
The midsection of Onyx Storm tests every fiber of Violet’s resolve. Sent on a mission with a misfit squad—including Ridoc, Dain, Mira, and even the Navarrian Crown Prince Halden—Violet’s leadership is constantly questioned. But her instincts, honed by trauma and love, often prove sharper than any blade.
In Hedotis, she meets Xaden’s estranged mother, a moment charged with familial scars and political manipulation. Poison and betrayal follow. Violet uses her father’s research to anticipate the trap, curing Garrick and securing a temporary alliance. Rebecca Yarros never lets Violet rest. There is no safety. Only forward.
A heart-shattering moment unfolds in Zellyhna, where Tragen dies fulfilling a divine fate. The squad lights a pyre for him and his gryphon, a poignant reminder that even in worlds with dragons and magic, death remains brutal and final.
This scene is one of Onyx Storm’s emotional peaks, a moment that had me setting the book down, eyes burning, heart thudding.
But perhaps the cruelest twist is the failure of the quest. The irids reject Andarna, and Violet returns to Basgiath—hope splintered, team demoralized, and Andarna shattered. The phrase “Onyx Storm” resonates again here: what began as clarity becomes devastation cloaked in beautiful chaos.
And then the fire reignites.
Queen Maraya is assassinated. Xaden channels again—amber now replaces the gold in his eyes, signaling a permanent change. Mira tries to kill him. Violet is torn between blood and bond. “Every possible path,” she repeats—a mantra of rebellion cloaked in reason, devotion in the guise of duty.
Yarros orchestrates a breathless finale. In a last-ditch battle, Violet faces the silver-haired venin general Theophanie—revealed to be a storm wielder like her mother. Violet must now battle the woman who was once balanced by General Sorrengail.
As chaos rains down, literally, a real onyx storm erupts, caused by Xaden’s final sacrifice to save her and Sgaeyl.
He channels again. His soul splinters. The battle is won, but the cost is seared into every character.
Final Movements
In the wake of the storm, Violet awakes in Aretia, now legally Duchess of Tyrrendor, having married Xaden—though she remembers none of it. She had asked Imogen to wipe her memory, a choice as tragic as it is strategic.
Onyx Storm closes not with resolution but with a cliffhanger dripping with mythic significance. We are left with fractured memories, a prophecy, and the echoes of war still rumbling through Aretia. The storm has passed—but the sky is still dark.
Setting and Atmosphere
Onyx Storm is richly atmospheric, steeped in snowstorms, crumbling towers, blood-stained infirmaries, and the aching silence of battlefields after the storm. The novel’s title is reflected not just in the events but in the emotional tone.
The onyx suggests power corrupted, darkened, and storm invokes change—often violent, always inevitable.
From the cold ridges of Basgiath to the magicless lands of Deverelli, the settings in Onyx Storm are no longer just exotic backdrops. They are psychological terrains—snow becomes suffocating isolation, wardstones reflect fractured trust, and the iridescent skies of Zellyhna reveal divine tests. Each place alters Violet, chisels her into something more dangerous, more determined.
Andarna’s own identity quest brings Violet to isles where sky and sea ripple, leading to a divine encounter with six iridescent dragons—the irids—who reject Andarna as a warrior, branding her a weapon. It is moments like these that elevate Onyx Storm from fantasy adventure to mythic parable. It asks: what does it mean to be forged in battle? And at what cost?
Analysis of Onyx Storm
Characters: Broken Souls, Unbreakable Bonds
One of the most powerful achievements of Onyx Storm is how deeply it humanizes its cast. These are not just fantasy archetypes—they’re haunted, flawed, evolving human beings. For me, it’s in their brokenness, not their strength, that their heroism gleams.
Violet Sorrengail is no longer the unsure, bookish girl from Fourth Wing. In Onyx Storm, she is fully transformed into a tactician, a protector, and a chosen one. Yet what makes her magnetic is not her power—it’s her vulnerability. Her grief is palpable, her fear unvarnished. She speaks of her mother’s death not as a plot point but as a wound: “It’s too late to save Mom, but I’ll be damned if I let Xaden get himself killed”. She carries trauma like armor and love like a blade.
Her complexity deepens as she navigates her love for Xaden. He is marked—figuratively by guilt and literally by the side effects of channeling forbidden power. She refuses to abandon him. “He channeled from the earth to save me, and I’ll scour the world until I find a way to save him right back”.
This is the emotional axis of Onyx Storm—devotion in the face of decay.
Xaden Riorson, for his part, is a paradox: powerful and broken, controlled yet on the verge of unraveling. After channeling again, the golden flecks in his eyes turn to amber—a permanent mark of soul decay. And yet he remains fiercely loyal, deeply introspective, and achingly human. “Why is it always you?” he asks Violet after saving her from another venin attack.
That one line drips with both love and exasperation. He is not just a love interest—he is an anchor, a mirror, and a tragic echo of Violet’s own path.
Andarna, the irid dragon, offers another layer. She is both beast and child, warrior and exile. Branded a weapon by her kind, she leaves Violet in the book’s most heartbreaking moment. Her voice—innocent, clever, loving—is a consistent emotional touchpoint. “Let us follow every possible path to a cure,” she pleads, becoming the moral compass when all others fracture.
Secondary characters shine as well. Rhiannon is Violet’s conscience, always unwavering in her loyalty. Mira, once a side character, becomes a fulcrum of action—her moment of betrayal (when she nearly kills Xaden) felt like being punched in the chest. Even Ridoc, usually comic relief, evolves as he uncovers Xaden’s secret.
And Sawyer, the amputee who never stops fighting, becomes a symbol of resilience.
This is Yarros’s triumph: she writes every character with emotional fidelity. They don’t just serve the plot—they deepen it.
b) Writing Style and Structure: Lightning in Prose
Yarros’s prose is unpretentious but piercing, emotionally direct yet rich with world-building. She doesn’t waste time with elaborate linguistic pirouettes; instead, she prioritizes emotional accuracy. She writes the way Violet feels—visceral, raw, precise.
Take this line: “Fear fights to rise and I snuff it out, denying it air to breathe or grow.” It’s not just about suppressing fear; it’s about mastering the self, a recurring motif throughout Onyx Storm.
Yarros’s greatest stylistic weapon is her internal monologue technique. Violet’s thoughts are not interruptions—they are the plot. Every twist of the knife, every flicker of doubt, every gut-wrenching moment of love or loss is filtered through Violet’s soul.
That personalization is what keeps the reader tethered, especially during long battles or dense political scenes.
Structurally, the novel is relentless in its pacing. Yarros shifts effortlessly between slow-burning strategy sessions and high-octane battle scenes. She uses short chapters and cliffhangers to propel the story while carefully seeding long-term plot arcs. The result is a compulsively readable structure that mirrors the unpredictability of war and emotional instability of its characters.
Yarros also excels at juxtaposition. A romantic scene is followed by a betrayal. A victory precedes a devastating loss. Onyx Storm is built on tension—between light and shadow, love and duty, truth and propaganda.
Themes and Symbolism
Onyx Storm is about war, yes—but it is also about the cost of love, the ethics of sacrifice, and the tyranny of prophecy.
One major theme is control vs. surrender. Xaden’s struggle with channeling is not just magical—it’s existential. If power can corrupt the soul, then what does it mean to use it for love? Violet faces a mirrored dilemma. She has the power to destroy—but also to save. That tightrope is symbolized through the onyx storm itself: power that can heal or annihilate, depending on its wielder’s will.
Another profound theme is inheritance—both biological and ideological. Violet inherits her mother’s strength and her father’s secrets. Xaden inherits Tyrrendor’s dukedom and its burden. Mira inherits the need to protect, even if it kills her. These inheritances are not just backstories; they are chains, gifts, and crossroads.
There’s also the symbolism of duality—light and dark, two dragons, two signets, two souls entwined. Violet’s second signet, inntinnsic (dream-walker), represents her ability to navigate inner worlds, not just external ones. This power becomes crucial as she discovers that the prophecy isn’t even about her—but about Xaden.
“What does that make me?” she whispers internally. And the answer is: the one who chooses to fight anyway.
Finally, the novel questions institutional morality. The Riders Quadrant, the Senarium, even the gods—all are revealed to be flawed, compromised, or complicit. Violet’s arc is one of awakening. She no longer sees rules as sacred. Instead, she sees them as obstacles to be rewritten, if not burned entirely.
Genre-Specific Elements: Fantastical Yet Grounded
As a fantasy romance, Onyx Storm wears its genre on its sleeve. But Yarros does more than check boxes—she redefines what the genre can be.
World-Building: The lore of dragons, wardstones, divine relics, and venin magic is dense, but never overwhelming. What grounds it is that every piece of lore serves emotional or ethical tension. The gods are not benevolent—they are demanding. The magic is not whimsical—it is costly. Even the irids, majestic dragons of legend, reject Andarna for being too “bloodthirsty.” That’s a far cry from your typical Tolkienesque fantasy.
Romance: Xaden and Violet are electric together. Their chemistry is earned, not assumed. Their moments—whether intimate, angry, or broken—are steeped in emotional clarity. This is not a relationship built on tropes, but on shared suffering, survival, and sacrifice. When Xaden says, “Why is it always you?” it’s not flirtation. It’s yearning laced with exhaustion.
Combat and Tactics: The battle scenes are thrilling, but what’s more compelling is the strategy. Violet isn’t just a fighter—she’s a thinker. And Yarros makes sure the reader follows not just the fists and fire, but the motives and consequences.
Dialogue: Realistic, witty, sharp. Rhiannon’s banter, Ridoc’s sarcasm, Mira’s anger—they all feel like real people talking. That’s rare in fantasy and gives Onyx Storm its emotional elasticity.
Who Should Read This?
If you’re a fan of Sarah J. Maas, Leigh Bardugo, or Brandon Sanderson but wish their worlds were a bit more emotionally honest, Onyx Storm is your book. If you’ve ever questioned a prophecy, loved someone who was breaking, or wondered whether fate is fixed, this is for you.
In fact, I’d recommend Onyx Storm not just to fantasy readers, but to fans of psychological drama, military thrillers, and literary fiction. It’s that layered.
Evaluation of Onyx Storm
Strengths: A Symphony of Emotion, Lore, and Courage
To call Onyx Storm merely a strong entry in The Empyrean series would be an injustice. It is, unequivocally, Rebecca Yarros’s magnum opus so far. The strengths of this novel lie not just in technical execution but in its emotional articulation.
But this is also a book for:
Readers who crave depth in their fantasy—emotional, philosophical, political.
Lovers of slow-burn romance built on sacrifice, not tropes.
Fans of dragon lore that isn’t ornamental but spiritual and cultural.
Those wrestling with grief, loyalty, or self-doubt—Violet’s journey may not heal you, but it will make you feel less alone.
1. Character Realism and Development
This is a masterclass in character evolution. Violet is no longer the reluctant student; she is a strategist, a sister, a lover, and most poignantly, a survivor. Her decisions carry consequences not just for herself but for realms, dragons, and lovers.
Her grief over General Sorrengail doesn’t resolve—it reshapes her. Xaden, equally, is not redeemed by love. His soul decay is not reversed but recontextualized. “His eyes are back to normal,” Violet notes early on, “but the fight inside him isn’t”. These are characters shaped by war, not sanitized by genre conventions.
2. Psychological Tension
Yarros masterfully portrays internal warfare alongside external conflict. Violet’s slow unraveling, her struggle to reconcile the duty to her realm and her devotion to Xaden, creates an atmosphere of dread that is so human, so uncomfortably close, that it reminded me more of literary fiction than fantasy. The psychological stakes are just as high as the physical.
3. Epic World-Building With Emotional Roots
Fantasy often dazzles with breadth. Yarros astounds with depth. The irids are not just plot devices—they’re ideological contrasts. The gods are not all-seeing—they are flawed, political entities.
The wardstones are not just magical relics—they’re symbols of sacrifice and broken systems. Every element in Onyx Storm is earned, which is why the keyword “Onyx Storm” doesn’t just describe a book—it encapsulates a philosophical crisis.
4. Narrative Courage
Very few authors dare to let their protagonists fail this deeply. Violet’s quest fails. Andarna is rejected. Mira is kidnapped. And still, the story presses on. There is beauty in the unraveling. It reminded me of what Tolkien once said: “Courage is found in unlikely places.”
Weaknesses: The Cost of Expanding a World
No book is flawless, and Onyx Storm is no exception.
1. Overextension
At times, the plot feels like it’s bursting at the seams. With three major arcs—venin infiltration, Andarna’s identity quest, and Violet’s personal war for Xaden—the pacing occasionally stumbles. While Yarros usually juggles them well, there were moments (particularly during the Deverelli sequence) where exposition bogs down momentum.
2. Accessibility
By Book 3, new readers are essentially locked out. The world is so dense that anyone unfamiliar with Fourth Wing and Iron Flame would drown in the sea of lore. This is a strength for series continuity but a barrier for first-time readers.
3. Romantic Repetition
While I adore Xaden and Violet’s romance, there are stretches where their emotional push-pull feels cyclical—particularly when Xaden withdraws for the umpteenth time out of guilt. The emotional logic makes sense, but the readability lags slightly during these sections.
Still, these are minor stumbles in an otherwise breathtaking sprint.
Emotional and Intellectual Impact
Reading Onyx Storm felt like being invited into a sacred struggle—the kind where the fate of a kingdom hinges not on prophecy, but on whether one young woman can keep herself whole.
It affected me emotionally in a way few fantasies ever have. Violet’s quiet bravery, her unwavering focus even as everything around her burns (including her sense of self), resonated with a part of me that knows what it’s like to be expected to hold it all together.
Her greatest act of love may not be choosing Xaden—but choosing to remember him. Even after asking Imogen to wipe her memory, even after legally marrying him during that blackout, she chooses him again, not out of obligation but recognition. “Every possible path,” she says over and over—less a strategy than a refrain of devotion.
Intellectually, I was struck by Yarros’s meditation on power. In many ways, Onyx Storm is about the consequences of godhood—dragons, kings, storm-wielders, venin. But it is also about the people caught in their crossfire. What happens when power chooses you? And what happens when it damns you?
Violet answers that with her body, her blood, and ultimately, her memory.
A Summary
Onyx Storm is a bold, bruising, and beautiful continuation of The Empyrean series, one that evolves its core characters while expanding the scope of its world. Its emotional depth is unparalleled in the romantasy genre. Its world-building, rich and rooted, does not indulge in whimsy but instead demands we ask questions—about legacy, control, love, and destiny.
Violet Sorrengail emerges as one of the most compelling heroines in contemporary fantasy. She is not flawless. She’s human, raw, afraid—but also, she is resolute, brilliant, and fiercely loyal. Watching her choose again and again—Xaden, Andarna, Mira, her squad, her people—became, for me, a mirror of the most difficult decisions any of us make: the ones where love and survival are at odds.
Rebecca Yarros also dares to ask: what if we got the prophecy wrong? What if the savior is not the one born for it, but the one who simply refuses to give up?
In that way, Onyx Storm becomes a commentary on heroism itself—not as destiny fulfilled, but as choices made again and again in the dark.
Why Onyx Storm Matters
In a world increasingly dominated by quick reads and surface-level content, Onyx Storm dares to be deep. It is a novel that requires investment, yes, but also rewards it with richness, catharsis, and truth. This book matters not because it entertains (though it does), but because it asks its reader to become vulnerable. To care. To believe in redemption, even when all seems lost.
In its storms—onyx or otherwise—this novel tells us something essential: even broken things can save the world.
So ride with Violet. Channel your strength. And brace for what’s next.
“I will not die today. I will save him.”
Violet Sorrengail’s personal addendum to the Book of Brennan
Conclusion
As I closed the final page of Onyx Storm, my heart thudded with that aching stillness reserved for books that leave a mark—not just on the mind, but the soul. Rebecca Yarros hasn’t merely written a fantasy novel.
She has orchestrated a mythic lament, a political parable, and an emotional saga that lingers like thunder long after the storm passes.
