RECENSIONE WINGS OF INK DI ANGELINA J. STEFFORT

Buongiorno Onceuponiani, 

finalmente oggi posso parlarvi del primo seducente ed emozionante libro della serie fantasy epica e romantica Wings of Ink della pluripremiata autrice Angelina J. Steffort.

Se vi piacciono le eroine argute e indipendenti e gli eroi moralmente grigi e tormentati, divorerete questa frizzante e coinvolgente avventura fantasy.

Perfetta per i fan di “Una corte di spine e rose”, “Sangue e cenere” e “La bella e la bestia”, “Wings of Ink” è un fantasy epico e romantico, con nemici-amanti, matrimoni combinati, un mondo magico pieno di misteri e mostri.

Wings Of Ink

Titolo: Wings Of Ink
Serie: Wings Of Ink #1
Autrice: Angelina J. Steffort
Editore: Paper Ray Media
Genere: Fantasy
Pagine: 480 

Data di uscita: 28 febbraio 2024
Prezzo ebook: 4,66 € | Link acquisto Amazon
Prezzo cartaceo: 15,62 € | Link acquisto Amazon

Stuck in prison, pirate Wolayna Milevishja is waiting to be dealt her punishment—one worse than death, her captors promised when they closed the door of her cell over nine months ago. Now that punishment has come to collect her. Wolayna is taken to the mystical fairylands as this year’s bride for the Crow King, and that, even the humans in this world know, means there is no hope. As Wolayna quarrels with her fate, frosty disdain melts into heart-stopping attraction, and she realizes that, maybe, King Myron, has just as little choice as she has. Something ancient and vengeful is at work in the Crow realm, and the intrigue at court is just the surface of the looming danger closing in on them. Will Wolayna outsmart fate and find the freedom she’s owed, or will this new world of winged horror and surprising beauty be the death of her?

serie 

La serie 'Wings Of Ink' è così composta:

1. Wings of Ink;

2. Heart of Night (dal 31 maggio in inglese). 

autrice

“Chocolate fanatic, milk-foam enthusiast, and huge friend of the southern sting-ray. Writing is an unexpected career-path for me.”

Angelina J. Steffort is a bestselling, award-winning Austrian novelist, best known for her Wings series and her Shattered Kingdom series. With over twenty YA and adult fantasy and paranormal romance books under her belt, Angelina is far from done with inventing and exploring new worlds. That might have something to do with her passion for following the narrative of new characters and getting surprised by the twists they spin on her stories. Angelina has multiple educational backgrounds including engineering, business, music, and acting. Currently, Angelina lives in Vienna, Austria, with her husband and her son. 

recensione

Anche questa volta mi sono fatta trasportare dalle meravigliose recensioni che le bookblogger oltre oceano hanno fatto per questo romanzo. Storia che sarà un retelling della “Bella e la Bestia”, con meno pelo rispetto a quello della Disney, ma con molte piume. Quelle nere e inquietanti di corvi. 

He owns this palace, these people, and he knows it. And something about the way he looks down at me as I glance up tells me, he thinks he owns me, too.

Before I can spit an insult at him, he holds out a manicured hand in a mockery of an offer to help me up and booms at the room, “Meet Wolayna Milevishja, future Queen of Crows. This year’s bride.”

La storia di Ayna inizia con lei in prigione da 9 mesi, dopo essere stata catturata. Seguendo le orme di suo padre non è nient’altro che una pirata che cerca di rubare tutti i carichi destinati al re. Proprio per questo motivo vedrà morire suo padre e l’uomo di cui sarà innamorata. 

Lei invece verrà chiusa in questa prigione. Motivo? Ve la faccio breve… Diventare la centesima sposa del re dei Corvi. Myron. 

Something is changing. Something is expected of me that I don’t know if I want to deliver. If it has anything to do with the monsters in these halls, it can’t be good.

“Be brave, Ayna,” Royad says, claws squeezing gently. “Don’t judge by what you see.”

He doesn’t give me time to panic at his words, waving his hand, and the guards pull the gates open, revealing the view of the throne room I’ve seen only once thus far.

It’s not the sheer size of the hall or the intimidating view of dark stone and sunset flames. It’s the crows circling from below the ceiling. They are bigger than normal birds, bodies shifting into those of Crow Fairies as they land. I spot a few beating their winged arms before landing on two feet. They can fly with those wings. My gaze shoots sideways to Royad, down the length of his feathered arms.

“Don’t fight him.” Royad holds my gaze as if he wills them to have a lasting effect on me, and a flicker of emotion crosses his otherwise impassive features.

I swallow the fear climbing up my throat, all the way past where a thinner bandage is covering the puncture wound from last night. My forearm throbs as if to remind me the neck isn’t the only place I’m injured. My voice trembles as I retort, “Isn’t it a bit late to give marriage advice?”

Royad shakes his head. “Not for your marriage. If you want a chance to survive, don’t fight him tonight.”

Sì, avete sentito molto bene…. Myron si sposerà con 99 donne, tutte moriranno. Non voglio dirvi il perché o il come, ma sappiate che una misteriosa maledizione sarà lanciata ai corvi, dopo indicibili azioni che hanno effettuato centinaia e centinaia di anni fa. Insomma, una sorta di punizione per il male effettuato. 

Myron intercepts it before I can touch my thigh, fingers curling around my bad wrist and talons retreating as he seems to regain control of his shifter body. The irony doesn’t fail me that his grip is light like a feather.

“Don’t…” His voice trails away as if he isn’t quite sure he wants to speak, but he tugs my hand an inch closer toward him. “Don’t turn away.”

My eyes lock on his waiting ones, and for the first time, I find something more than the Crow King there. Something vulnerable, fathomless that I can’t even begin to understand.

“Don’t be afraid of me, Ayna. I am more than the monster you see.” That speck of blood reappears on his lips, and this time, I don’t hold back.

“Why are you bleeding?”

Quindi Ayna si ritroverà in questo palazzo dove una parte dei corvi vuole uccider, un’altra parte vorrebbe possederla e un’ultima parte vorrebbe fosse davvero lei l’ultima sposa che possa cambiare la situazione. 

Without a word, Myron lays me down on top of deep blue sheets and gently pulls his arms out from under me. I don’t fail to notice his wince as some of his feathers are bent the wrong direction when he slides them free of my weight, and I can’t help but reach for the patch of shiny black where they stick out in odd angles as he stands there, glancing down at me as if he has no idea what to do with me. They are an inch from my hand, begging for me to smooth them back into place.

“Does that hurt?” About to touch the nearest feather, I lift a fingertip, but Myron cringes away, stepping back a foot so he is out of reach. I have no idea why his rejection stings, but it does, and so does the war in his gaze as he keeps staring down at me, mute like a fish.

“Why?” It’s a mere whisper, but it’s all I can get out under his scrutiny. His beak and feather-hair recede, bringing back his human features and wavy black strands, and the tight line of his mouth and furrow between his brows make breathing difficult—as do the many injuries on my body.

“Because, no matter how much I wish I didn’t care if you live or die, I can’t stop now that I’ve started.” He takes another step back as if physical distance will protect him from those words he just spoke, and whatever battle is going on inside of him is coming to an end. If I only knew which side is winning—and what he’s been fighting.

He forces down a slow breath, chest expanding and feathers rustling along his arms, and I can’t help noticing the strength rippling through his body as he straightens an inch, obviously remembering who he is—who he is supposed to be.

“Where does it hurt most?” His voice is gruff, but his eyes are gentle as he assesses me from a little distance, gaze lingering on my shoulder, my bloodied sleeve, then the side of my head.

Ma il caro re dei corvi ormai ha perso ogni speranza, e vorrà cercare di mantenere in vita Ayna il più a lungo possibile. Anche perché non crede che lei possa essere davvero la via di uscita di questo incubo che si ritrova a vivere giorno dopo. Con grandissimi sensi di colpa… 

Before my mind can come up with horror scenarios of Myron’s eating habits, he leans in, nose grazing my cheek as he whispers, “Don’t worry, Ayna; I don’t feast on my brides.” He pauses, his chuckle running along my skin as he leans in a bit farther. “At least not the way you think.”

The fork slips from my grasp as I understand what he implies, and he laughs softly, a sound of genuine amusement that I haven’t heard from him before. The melody burrows deep within me like an echo of a life I’ve never gotten to live. The effect is intoxicating, and I can’t help but turn my head so I’m face to face with him, holding that heated gaze as I meet his clear challenge. “Another thing I’ll be begging you for?”

The heat in his gaze flares into a wildfire, and by the looks of it, he thinks I’ll be begging him for so much more before the end. How that makes me feel, I am not even remotely ready to consider, so I tell myself that he’s putting on a good show to protect me the same as I’m playing the happy bride so I won’t be slaughtered at the next convenience by one of his court.

As I pick up my fork and spear a slice of well-done meat, the other Crows give hisses of relief at the sign that the meal has officially started. Their beaks tear into the raw meat before them. Even Royad has opted for the bloodier version of dinner this evening. I try not to look as he dissects a piece with his claws—because who needs cutlery when you have razor-sharp claws attached to your arms?

All the while, Myron hasn’t turned back to his own plate, curious black eyes following my every movement as if he’s fascinated beyond words by his new bride. Ignoring the attention as best I can, I saw off one slice of meat after the other until I finish my meal. But I can feel his eyes like a grazing touch on my skin, can sense his need to be convincing with his act of playing the insatiable husband.

Myron presides over this dinner like an emperor who’s forgotten he has a people to rule, his gaze lazy and intrigued as he studies my profile while I try to ignore the monsters nibbling away at bloody meat, watching me lift my glass and take a deep drink.

Insomma.. come potete immaginare tra i due si inizierà ad instaurare un dolce rapporto, che sfocerà nell’amore? Non posso dirvelo… Anche perché a corte niente sarà come sempre, e i traditori sono sempre nell’ombra pronti ad uccidere. 

Myron holds so still he might have turned into a statue, and I could swear I can hear his heart thumping in his chest—perhaps it’s mine, though. When he doesn’t cringe from my touch, I gather more courage, something I believed I’d lost the day I’d watched the crew of the Wild Ray slaughtered in the prison yard. It’s an emboldening sensation, tingling through my body with an almost-compulsion to slide my fingers along those silken feathers again.

I don’t question the feeling, just follow that impulse, raising my finger to his cheek where hues of black, sapphire, and purple shimmer in the soft glow of the fairy lights.

“Am I not disgusting to you? You should be terrified to be so close to a creature like me.” Myron’s words crack between a hiss and a caw, and I should be repulsed by the sound of it, by the sight of his bird face, the beak that can tear through flesh. But I shake my head.

“I’m not afraid of you.”

I can feel his shudder under my fingertip, even in his cheek. And as I keep staring into those depthless eyes, his features are clearing, one feather after the other receding. His beak disappears last, leaving behind that handsome face hidden beyond the nightmare of his Crow form.

There’s something about the way he looks at me that reaches deep into my core, and as I hold his stare, heat blazes behind those onyx eyes. His breath is a gust of warmth on my face, and his scent wraps around me in a wave of wind and pine and something more that I can’t quite place. I’m acutely aware of where his stomach presses against my thigh and hip as he leans over me, the hardness of his body against mine, and instead of wanting to flee, an ache to explore the solid muscles of his chest builds inside of me.

And that is before his gaze drops to my mouth and his throat bobs as he is clearly holding back words he shouldn’t be speaking or simply doesn’t want to. I don’t care.

I hold my breath as I wait for him to shy away, to slip back into the role of the grumpy king and push me away, but he surprises me with a long inhale that makes me feel more naked than the slightly revealing dress actually is. It’s in the way his eyes light up as he seems to scent me, the way he pulls his lower lip between his teeth as his hands wrap even harder around the edges of the couch.

“Tell me to leave you alone, and I will. Tell me that you don’t want to be so close to a monster, and I won’t even bring up how much I want to kiss you right now.” My breath hitches as his voice lowers into a near growl. “One word, Ayna, and I’ll be gone from this room until my head clears and I no longer think of what one single touch of your fingertip can do to me. Just tell me to leave, and I won’t bother you again. I won’t even suggest that you might want to be bothered.”

È stata una piacevole lettura, devo ammettere che a volte l’ho trovato un pochino noioso. Però la storia è fresca, diversa dal solito, quindi sì merita di essere letta! 

4 principesse sono assolutamente meritate!