I stood with her, only her, until the end of our stories.
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| (2025 cover edition) Available at Amazon.com |
Daughter of No Worlds
Carissa Broadbent
The War of Lost Hearts, book one
Kindle edition, 520 pages
Published January 7, 2020
Hardcover, 512 pages
Published October 14, 2025
ASIN B082FRD429
ISBN 9781250405364
A former slave fighting for justice. A reclusive warrior who no longer believes it exists. And a dark magic that will entangle their fates.
Ripped from a forgotten homeland as a child, Tisaanah learned how to survive with nothing but a sharp wit and a touch of magic. But the night she tries to buy her freedom, she barely escapes with her life.
Desperate to save the best friend she left behind, Tisaanah journeys to the Orders, the most powerful organizations of magic Wielders in the world. But to join their ranks, she must complete an apprenticeship with Maxantarius Farlione, a handsome and reclusive fire wielder who despises the Orders.
The Orders’ intentions are cryptic, and Tisaanah must prove herself under the threat of looming war. But even more dangerous are her growing feelings for Maxantarius. The bloody past he wants to forget may be the key to her future… or the downfall of them both.
But Tisaanah will stop at nothing to save those she abandoned. Even if it means gambling in the Orders’ deadly games. Even if it means sacrificing her heart.
Even if it means wielding death itself.
Fans of epic romantic fantasy like Sarah J. Maas and Raven Kennedy will devour this tale of dark magic, passionate romance, vengeance, and redemption.
Tisaanah survived the catastrophies of war only to be delivered into slavery as a child. And eventually ended up with a master that promised her freedom if she could only afford the price: one thousand silvers.
And today, at twenty-one years of age, she's finally done it.
But, her master is a liar. And now Tasaanah is forced to flee with help from her best friend, Serel, who stays behind to give her time to escape and make it to the ships. She must sail to Ara, to the Orders.
Tasaanah's one hope is to learn to master her magic and return for her friend and for her people.
Max is a loner. He's done with the politics. Done with the wars. Buuuut Tisaananah's intentions are noble. Hopeful. Desperate. And so, he succumbs to Nura's insistence that he take on the role as Tasaanah's teacher. She becomes his apprentice and he begins to train her.
And despite the pretenses, Max is a sweetheart. As Miraselle said, he's just so nice. When he wants to be.
Tasaanah, Max, and Sammerin are recruited by Nura to be a part of a show of force against Pathyr Savoi who is refusing to abdicate now that his family has been removed from power following his father being declared a traitor and violently slain in the street. There was to be no bloodshed.
But then Pathyr decides to blow the place up instead and suddenly we're in a battle and magic is slinging up, down, and sideways. Tasaanah is wielding daggers. Sammerin is building a dam of dead bodies. Max is shaking, barely keeping it together. And I'm triggered enough to yell "Objection, Foundation," because where the hell is all this coming from?!
They're moving in sync, gaining ground as a unit, and still, where does a dancing slave from Threll get this training?!
But okay, I'm along for the ride.
Especially when Tasaanah slips into Max's mind to give him sight beyond what they could physically see from their standpoint. And then her mind is riding his flames, winding through the halls of what's left of the castle, seeking the enemy, intent on breaking their spell.
And. So. Much. Is. Happening.
Then Tasaanah's mind flashes back to her whipping and the twenty-seven lashes that preceeded the death of her master. And I can finally take a breath as everything goes dark.
Tasaanah and Max are absolutely precious together. His words often mirror her thoughts. They compliment one another and fit almost seemlessly as their relationship goes from strangers to mentor and apprentice and effortlessly into friendship.
I appreciate how this author doesn't waste paragraphs going on and on with descriptive nonsense trying to build some kind of atmosphere or scene. Somehow, with so few words, the reader is drawn into the mood, into the moment in this world, just by the characters, their actions, and their words. The focus is the conversation and somehow that alone gives light to everything else one could imagine around them. It's with every Clip, Clip, Clip instead of droning on about the flowers themselves, their colors and the size of their blossoms or the strength of their fragrance.
This is world building at its finest, for me. Leave more to be imagined.
And may we spare a moment to appreciate how these two characters can fall asleep beside one another in the garden and not wake up wrapped around one another? The innocence of these two war-beaten souls, I tell you. It's a whole other form of intimacy.
But the attraction is there. And the heat of the slow burn is sizzling while their friendship and subtle romance is just divine.
This isn’t what I want.
It all depended on the definition of “this” — whether those words were unshakably true or the biggest fucking lie I had ever told anyone else or myself.
If “this” was the sensation of her lips against my neck, or that little sound that I suspected she didn’t even know she’d made, or the way that she felt enveloped in my arms...
If “this” was the sound of her voice, or the way she saw the world, or her stupid jokes...
"I never expected this from you, Tisaanah,” I choked out. We were still so close. Our noses almost touched. I could barely focus on the words I forced out of my mouth. “Almost every single person in your life has used you. And I’m not— This isn’t—"
And I wouldn’t be another one of those people, unwittingly or not.
This isn’t what I want.
If “this” was her lips, her body, her kiss, her touch, I would be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about those things. If I hadn’t had to shove them into a dark corner of my mind, never to be disturbed, never to be addressed.
But if “this” was her friendship, her companionship, her trust? Her happiness? Her safety?
Those things were worth more to me than anything else ever would be. Downright precious.
And for that, I would throw everything else into a box and lock it away never to be acknowledged, permanently, if that’s where they needed to be.
It all depended on the definition of “this” — whether those words were unshakably true or the biggest fucking lie I had ever told anyone else or myself.
If “this” was the sensation of her lips against my neck, or that little sound that I suspected she didn’t even know she’d made, or the way that she felt enveloped in my arms...
If “this” was the sound of her voice, or the way she saw the world, or her stupid jokes...
"I never expected this from you, Tisaanah,” I choked out. We were still so close. Our noses almost touched. I could barely focus on the words I forced out of my mouth. “Almost every single person in your life has used you. And I’m not— This isn’t—"
And I wouldn’t be another one of those people, unwittingly or not.
This isn’t what I want.
If “this” was her lips, her body, her kiss, her touch, I would be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about those things. If I hadn’t had to shove them into a dark corner of my mind, never to be disturbed, never to be addressed.
But if “this” was her friendship, her companionship, her trust? Her happiness? Her safety?
Those things were worth more to me than anything else ever would be. Downright precious.
And for that, I would throw everything else into a box and lock it away never to be acknowledged, permanently, if that’s where they needed to be.
Spoilers ahead.
Tisaanah succeeds in her trials, only to be presented with a test greater than anything she or Max had anticipated. Because they (Nura and Arch Commandant Zeryth) have plans for Tisaanah. Plans that Max had unwittingly, and so foolishly, played into all along.
There is a magic strong enough to end any war. A sentient magic that selectively chooses its host, bonding itself to them. And they expect it to choose Tisaanah, just as it had chosen Max so many years ago.
And despite Max's pleas that she not go, that she not accept anything offered to her, there is nothing Tisaanah would not give of herself to save her people.
Tisaanah agrees with Zeryth's plan, albeit with well thought out conditions, and the story takes a turn as she awakens with a voice in her head. Reshaye. And not just a voice, but memories. Max's memories.
She's now basically possesed by Max's haunted past and his demon, a demon (my word, not the author's) that has been cast aside, abandoned, and tortured. Reshaye is a force that is no stranger to its anger, fueled by its repeated suffered betrayals.
And with its arrival, so, too, do we get a continuous pattern of Max's POV. Ascended above, what a POV it is! Just like The Silversmith, I found myself just about highlighting his every word. Oh, Maxantarius—the friend, ally, and battlemate that you are!
5 out of 5 stars. This is an extremely underhyped book. And of all the books I've read, this, if nothing else, deserves a film adaptation. The story is so simple but would be glorious on the big screen.
Available in ebook | hardcover | paperback | audiobook (Not recommending this in audiobook)
