Fourth Wing by Rebecca Yarros: A Review with a Side of Dragons
The wind howls outside, a banshee's scream ripping through the trees as Hurricane Milton rages against the thin panes of my window. It’s the kind of storm that makes you want to hunker down with a cup of tea and a book that will take you far away from the chaos outside. Tonight, my tea is a concoction called Florida Grey—an earl grey crème infused with butterfly pea flower, deep blue swirling through the cup like the sky before the storm hit. And the book? The book is Fourth Wing by Rebecca Yarros, a fiery escape into a world where dragons rule and survival is a bloody, brutal test.
I hadn’t meant to pick up this book. Like most of my reading these days, Fourth Wing slipped into my hands by accident, almost a whisper from the shelves as I stood in my local bookstore. The cover—a golden gleam in the soft light—was the first thing that caught my attention. But it was the promise of a world built on dragon riders, war colleges, and a heroine fighting against the odds that held me.
From the first page, Fourth Wing hits the ground running. You meet Violet Sorrengail, a woman who’s never quite belonged, thrust into a deadly academy where bonding with a dragon means life or death—literally. The premise is simple but seductive: Basgiath War College is a place where the weak are culled without a second thought. And Violet? She’s the daughter of the academy’s most feared general, a woman who expects her daughter to rise to the occasion or die trying. There’s no room for second chances, and as the storm outside rattles the windows, I feel that same pulse of tension in every page I turn.
This book doesn’t pretend to be anything other than what it is—pure, unadulterated escapism. It’s the kind of story that reminds you why you fell in love with fantasy in the first place. Dragons, battles, forbidden romance, and the constant threat of death loom over every moment. Fourth Wing is unapologetically fast-paced, its pages burning with action, the stakes as high as the dragons soaring above.
But here’s the thing—it’s not perfect. It doesn’t need to be. Violet Sorrengail is not your typical heroine. She’s fragile in a way that’s refreshing for a genre that loves to throw invincible protagonists into the fray. Her body may be weak, but her mind? It’s as sharp as the storm tearing through the palms outside. Her journey from a would-be scribe to a fierce, calculating dragon rider is one you want to root for, even as you watch her navigate the dangerous world of Basgiath War College.
Enter Xaden Riorson, a brooding, lethal force of nature—because what’s a fantasy without a little romance, right? The tension between Violet and Xaden is a slow burn that turns into a wildfire by the time the book hits its stride. And yes, the romance is spicy. It’s not shy about it, either. There’s an undeniable chemistry that crackles with each encounter, even as their bond feels fraught with the kind of danger that makes you question who is playing whom. It’s not subtle, but then again, neither is surviving in a war college where every decision could be your last.
The storm rattles the window frames, and I’m reminded that life, even in its most dangerous moments, can be beautiful. That’s the charm of Fourth Wing. It’s a book that knows it’s playing on familiar tropes—the chosen one, the unlikely hero, the enemies-to-lovers romance—but it does so with a grin, daring you to keep turning the pages. Dragons bond with their riders in a way that feels both primal and mystical, and the world-building, while limited to the academy itself, is rich enough to keep you invested. It’s not sprawling, but it doesn’t need to be. The world beyond Basgiath is hinted at, a shadow on the horizon, but you don’t need to see it all to feel its weight pressing in on the characters.
As the rain pours down, drowning out the sound of the hurricane’s fury for a moment, I can’t help but admire the pacing of this book. Yarros knows how to keep the pressure on—whether it’s a near-death experience, a burgeoning romance, or the simple act of trying to survive another day. And sure, there’s a lot of convenience in the plot—Violet bonds with the most powerful dragon, she’s tied to Xaden in ways that feel almost too perfect, and she becomes one of the academy’s strongest contenders by the end. But when a book is this fun, who cares?
I sip my tea, the floral notes of the butterfly pea flower mingling with the creamy earl grey, and I realize that Fourth Wing is the kind of book I needed. It’s not here to challenge your worldview or make you question the meaning of life. It’s here to remind you that sometimes, we need dragons. We need love that’s messy and complicated. We need worlds where survival isn’t guaranteed, where the stakes are high and the payoff is worth every moment of tension.
For all its predictable moments—and there are many—Fourth Wing doesn’t feel tired. It feels like coming home to the kind of story that first made you fall in love with reading. There’s a comfort in its familiarity, in the way the plot pulls you deeper with each brush with death, each fiery exchange between Violet and Xaden, each moment that reminds you life is short and brutal, but it can be beautiful too.
So, if you’re like me—sitting in the middle of a storm, craving an escape from the realities that batter at your window—Fourth Wing will take you there. It’s a wild ride filled with dragons, romance, and just enough danger to make you forget the world outside, even if only for a little while.
Would I recommend it? Absolutely. But only if you’re willing to let go of the notion that every book needs to be “serious.” Fourth Wing is fun. It’s fierce. It’s exactly the kind of escapism we all need.
I hadn’t meant to pick up this book. Like most of my reading these days, Fourth Wing slipped into my hands by accident, almost a whisper from the shelves as I stood in my local bookstore. The cover—a golden gleam in the soft light—was the first thing that caught my attention. But it was the promise of a world built on dragon riders, war colleges, and a heroine fighting against the odds that held me.
From the first page, Fourth Wing hits the ground running. You meet Violet Sorrengail, a woman who’s never quite belonged, thrust into a deadly academy where bonding with a dragon means life or death—literally. The premise is simple but seductive: Basgiath War College is a place where the weak are culled without a second thought. And Violet? She’s the daughter of the academy’s most feared general, a woman who expects her daughter to rise to the occasion or die trying. There’s no room for second chances, and as the storm outside rattles the windows, I feel that same pulse of tension in every page I turn.
This book doesn’t pretend to be anything other than what it is—pure, unadulterated escapism. It’s the kind of story that reminds you why you fell in love with fantasy in the first place. Dragons, battles, forbidden romance, and the constant threat of death loom over every moment. Fourth Wing is unapologetically fast-paced, its pages burning with action, the stakes as high as the dragons soaring above.
But here’s the thing—it’s not perfect. It doesn’t need to be. Violet Sorrengail is not your typical heroine. She’s fragile in a way that’s refreshing for a genre that loves to throw invincible protagonists into the fray. Her body may be weak, but her mind? It’s as sharp as the storm tearing through the palms outside. Her journey from a would-be scribe to a fierce, calculating dragon rider is one you want to root for, even as you watch her navigate the dangerous world of Basgiath War College.
Enter Xaden Riorson, a brooding, lethal force of nature—because what’s a fantasy without a little romance, right? The tension between Violet and Xaden is a slow burn that turns into a wildfire by the time the book hits its stride. And yes, the romance is spicy. It’s not shy about it, either. There’s an undeniable chemistry that crackles with each encounter, even as their bond feels fraught with the kind of danger that makes you question who is playing whom. It’s not subtle, but then again, neither is surviving in a war college where every decision could be your last.
The storm rattles the window frames, and I’m reminded that life, even in its most dangerous moments, can be beautiful. That’s the charm of Fourth Wing. It’s a book that knows it’s playing on familiar tropes—the chosen one, the unlikely hero, the enemies-to-lovers romance—but it does so with a grin, daring you to keep turning the pages. Dragons bond with their riders in a way that feels both primal and mystical, and the world-building, while limited to the academy itself, is rich enough to keep you invested. It’s not sprawling, but it doesn’t need to be. The world beyond Basgiath is hinted at, a shadow on the horizon, but you don’t need to see it all to feel its weight pressing in on the characters.
As the rain pours down, drowning out the sound of the hurricane’s fury for a moment, I can’t help but admire the pacing of this book. Yarros knows how to keep the pressure on—whether it’s a near-death experience, a burgeoning romance, or the simple act of trying to survive another day. And sure, there’s a lot of convenience in the plot—Violet bonds with the most powerful dragon, she’s tied to Xaden in ways that feel almost too perfect, and she becomes one of the academy’s strongest contenders by the end. But when a book is this fun, who cares?
I sip my tea, the floral notes of the butterfly pea flower mingling with the creamy earl grey, and I realize that Fourth Wing is the kind of book I needed. It’s not here to challenge your worldview or make you question the meaning of life. It’s here to remind you that sometimes, we need dragons. We need love that’s messy and complicated. We need worlds where survival isn’t guaranteed, where the stakes are high and the payoff is worth every moment of tension.
For all its predictable moments—and there are many—Fourth Wing doesn’t feel tired. It feels like coming home to the kind of story that first made you fall in love with reading. There’s a comfort in its familiarity, in the way the plot pulls you deeper with each brush with death, each fiery exchange between Violet and Xaden, each moment that reminds you life is short and brutal, but it can be beautiful too.
So, if you’re like me—sitting in the middle of a storm, craving an escape from the realities that batter at your window—Fourth Wing will take you there. It’s a wild ride filled with dragons, romance, and just enough danger to make you forget the world outside, even if only for a little while.
Would I recommend it? Absolutely. But only if you’re willing to let go of the notion that every book needs to be “serious.” Fourth Wing is fun. It’s fierce. It’s exactly the kind of escapism we all need.