Between Tides and Thunder

At least your fear was one truth.

Available at Amazon.com

Between Tides and Thunder
Leena Kazak
ebook, 496 pages
Independently Published March 31, 2026
ASIN B0G4RDHHQZ
ISBN 9798991767477


She was raised to hate him. Now she shares his bed.

Princess Mayah of Tundrayn isn’t allowed to want. Not freedom. Not love. Not even her own future. Instead, she’s spent her life healing others’ pain and swallowing her own. But when her father strikes a fragile alliance with enemy-kingdom Arbinj to crush a rising rebellion, she is bartered into a marriage she didn’t choose for a crown she doesn’t want.

She expects a prince. She gets the Dark Commander.

Zevayr is ruthless, unyielding, and a stormwielder with a reputation soaked in blood. He is everything Mayah was taught to fear. Yet as they race across rebel-torn lands, the less certain she is of where the monster ends and where the man begins.

In Arbinj’s glittering courts, the Rebellion surges and dangerous secrets stir from Mayah’s past—secrets that could shatter her kingdom, and her heart, if she lets them.

The question is not if Mayah will betray, but who: her people, her love, or herself?

Mayah is both a princess and a healer. Her people have long waged war with those of Arbinj in a world where the blessed are given the ability to wield powers over forces such as water, earth, heart, storms, and so on. Those lacking such gifts are referred to as Commons in Mayah's land. A slur for the lesser citizens of Tundrayn, a land of ice and snow.

Food is rationed. Citizens are ranked. And those unwielders will go without so that their betters can continue the fight.

Mayah is selfless in her plight to heal the wounded. Wielders and unwielders alike. And when she's worn herself into exhaustion, it's with Daak she finds her rest. He's her friend, her trainer, and her lover. Or, as much of a lover as he can. For Mayah's been promised in marriage to the crown prince of Arbinj and her chastity is demanded as his bride to be.

The Dark Commander.

This man opened his mouth and from there, I could not put this book down.

Zevayr, second born son and commander of the Arbinji army, is not her betrothed but is sent to stand in for Faramir in the betrothal ceremony and escort her to her husband.

Upon their first meeting Mayah chastises him only to follow it up with defying him, headbashing him, and promptly slapping him.

Daak was right. She's a tidesdamned force of nature.

Every time Zev opened his mouth, I swooned. He apologized. He bent the knee. He was her shield. Her warmth in the cold. Her comfort in the storm. He assuaged her fears and empathised with her pain. Struggled to keep his thoughts from being spoken, but willingly shared the parts of himself that he could.

Zev is top tier.

They travel for weeks and arrive only to be told that plans have changed. Faramir will marry the princess of Volca and Mayah is betrothed to Zevayr.

The wedding?

"Tomorrow," Zev insists. Tomorrow.

Easy, right? Too damn easy.

But they wed and all seems to be going splendidly, but... Mayah's holding back. She won't consummate the marriage.

Then the trauma of Metal Slinger begins to tickle my brain. And the foreshadowing begins to drip from the pages.

"Because I have to."

“There’s nothing I hate more than a liar.”

A few weeks is all it takes for the first plot twist to drop.

It's unexpected. There's a brutal reveal. And the story veers from there with death after death. Torture and hate and so much spiralling.

At one point or another, Mayah has managed to betray every character that matters.

RIP Daak. Sorry, ...not sorry? The guy that always pulled away didn't stay away. It was magnificent and I may have cheered Zev on despite the emotional damage it inflicted on dear Mayah.

Dear traitorous Mayah.

"If you attack me,” he murmurs, his voice a silky threat, “I will kill you. If you betray me, I will kill you. And if you try to run…” His gaze drops to my lips before he drags it back up. He reaches for my cheek—then grabs my jaw instead. “I’ll let you go.”

Second plot twist. Third. Fourth. Her mother. His mother. Rebels everywhere.

You want an emotionally and physically tortured MMC? Look no further.

Absolutely will be reading the companion book, Between Sky and Sea, for Zev's POV. Must know what else he was doing with that hidden secondary power. Side note: Much prefer Vayru.

5 out of 5 stars. The best closed door spice I've ever read.

Available in ebook | hardcover | paperback

Companion Book: (MMC POV)

2026/28

A Court of Mist and Fury (ACOTAR #2)

There you are.
I've been looking for you.

Other Editions Available at Amazon.com

A Court of Mist & Fury
Sarah J. Maas
ACOTAR, book two
656 pages, Paperback
Audiobook, 19+ hours
Night Court Edition published April 29, 2025
ISBN 9781639736706


Feyre survived Amarantha's clutches to return to the Spring Court – but at a steep cost. Though she now possesses the powers of the High Fae, her heart remains human, and it can’t forget the terrible deeds she performed to save Tamlin’s people.

Nor has Feyre forgotten her bargain with Rhysand, the mesmerising High Lord of the feared Night Court. As Feyre navigates his dark web of political games and tantalising promises, a greater evil looms – and she might be key to stopping it.

But only if she can step into her growing power, heal her fractured soul and have the courage to shape her own future – and the future of a world cloven in two...

Everyone deserves a second chance. This was Feyre's.

Three months have passed since what went down in A Court of Thorns and Roses, and Feyre is miserable. And yet... Rhysand come get this damn woman. She's being stupid again!

She's haunted by her kills. She has nightmares. She's vomiting at all hours of the night. She's trapped under guard, in a house, losing weight, turning pale, panic driven at the color red... and she's still f#€^£;#% Tamlin!! I know women like this exist but there is not an iota of my being that can relate to this kind of insanity. Feyre is the only person to go from human to Fae and actually have a glow down instead of up.

Part 2 ::

Being in Velaris, at the restaurant, sitting round the table and sharing their history - how they met and the obstacles they'd overcome - was so very reminiscent of the League. It took me back to Nykyrian and yes, Rhysand very much gave Syn vibes, and I had all the feels as this small team divulged how Rhys had come to have his Inner Circle: his Second, Morrigan; his Third, Amren; the commander of his armies, Cassien; and his spy, Azriel.

Page after page, chapter after chapter, I was trying my best to like Feyre. I was desperate to see her through Rhysand's eyes and kept reminding myself that she does have redeemable qualities. She is a survivor. When faced with a challenge, she will drag herself up to meet it. What she loves, she will destroy herself to protect. But she's being so *difficult*. The way she thinks. The choices she wrestles with. The mantra she clings to only to forsake.

I was a wolf. I was a wolf. I was a wolf. ...I'm not an animal.

What dafuq?!

And then there's her relationship with Tamlin.

“I had done everything—everything for that love. I had ripped myself to shreds, I had killed innocents and debased myself, and he had sat beside Amarantha on that throne. And he couldn’t do anything, hadn’t risked it—hadn’t risked being caught until there was one night left, and all he’d wanted to do wasn’t free me, but fuck me, and—”

And when Amarantha had broken me, when she had snapped my bones and made my blood boil in its veins, he’d just knelt and begged her. He hadn’t tried to kill her, hadn’t crawled for me. Yes, he’d fought for me—but I’d fought harder for him.

And he had the nerve once his powers were back to shove me into a cage. The nerve to say I was no longer useful; I was to be cloistered for his peace of mind. He’d given me everything I needed to become myself, to feel safe, and when he got what he wanted—when he got his power back, his lands back … he stopped trying. He was still good, still Tamlin, but he was just … wrong.

And then I was sobbing through my clenched teeth, the tears washing away that infected wound, and I didn’t care that Cassian was there, or Rhys or Azriel.

How. Many. Times. Will this woman break apart over this pathetic cretin before enough is enough.

But we press on and in true Maas fashion, after about thirty chapters, we find our stride and all is going swimmingly. A visit to the Summer Court. A side quest with Amren.

And then...

I swore as I slammed into the post of the stairwell landing.

You're wrong for that, Maas! I laughed then and I laugh now but you're wrong for that.

Then there came a point, however brief. And I don't know how I got there, but I didn't want this book to end. Maybe it was the spice of 42. Maybe it was the rage of 43. Maybe even the hope found in 44. Maybe it was the culmination of knowing the hell that Rhysand had been suffering for years was reaching its end.

Details got caught up in my consciousness that I would dwell on for hours. The words that he'd said. The questions he'd asked. For Feyre's benefit or his own?

Here was the High Lord of the Night Court with a mate—once in love with the High Lord of Spring—now telling the High Lord of the Summer Court how easy it would be to fall in love with him. Feyre darling, you are lethal to this man's self esteem.

Oh yes, this book was under my skin.

And then finally, finally, it happened: Feyre became the main character I needed her to be. She effortlessly yielded her powers, declared her independence, stood against Lucien (Not Tamlin, but meh), molded her wings and made her choice. Yes, we had faltered a bit when she oh so appallingly told the man who had spent fifty years placating his captor as a whore that all she wanted was fun and a distraction from him... But, fine, push passed, ignore that trigger...We were here.. and then, just.. as.. swiftly...

You bitch.

"...take whatever pieces that you offered"

He was willing to take whatever she offered and all I could hear in my head as my eyes flew over the words on the pages was Stop, Feyre. StopitFeyre. Stop. It. Feyre!

"I don't want to hear this."

That's what she'd said to him as he poured his heart out. Before she demanded he, poisoned, bloodied, and weak from torture, use whatever power he had left to winnow her home where she left him on his elbows and knees in the mud.

And I just sat there as the chapter closed—raging, tearful, devastated—with a book in my hands too pretty to throw.

Part 3 ::

I don't have the words for Chapter 54 but Feyre is Cauldron blessed that she managed to sort herself out before nightfall. Even if it did take five days for her to face Rhys again. Five days! Just go paint your little pictures, Feyre, it’s not like we’re preparing for a war or anything.

Hasn't that man suffered enough from a volatile female? Feyre... Maas... What are you doing? Why is the lead female continuously lashing out against a far more traumatized leading male? Out to single-handedly exemplify that hurt people hurt people? Using his vulnerabilities against him. It’s gross.

And from that point I was just ready to be done. No more rollercoaster. No more struggling to love a character hell bent on jumping from victim to villain and back again.

I love this world. I like Lucien and Rhysand and Mor and Azriel and Cassien and Amren. It's Tamlin and these damned humans that keep ruining things. I don’t know if I’ll venture again into the Maasverse. Certainly not anytime soon.

5 out of 5 stars. I can give it no less. This book emotionally wrecked me.

Available in ebook | hardcover | paperback | audiobook


Previously in the series:

One good thing about coming into a series ten years late is that the fanart is abundant and on point!

2025/11