From Blood and Ash

I came to From Blood and Ash late, after friends would not stop talking about Poppy and Hawke. Jennifer L. Armentrout published it with Blue Box Press in 2020, a 627 page fantasy romance that opens the Blood and Ash series. Poppy is the Maiden, chosen, veiled, forbidden to be looked at or touched, waiting for her Ascension. Hawke is the guard who looks, talks, and refuses to follow those rules. If you like slow burn banter, secret identities, and heroines who learn to fight, this will hook fast. If you need tight worldbuilding from page one, give it fifty pages to find footing.

Poppy, full name Penellaphe Balfour, lives in a castle town under the rule of the Ascended, near divine beings who protect mortals from Craven, monsters made when people are bitten and not turned properly. She wears a veil in public. She may not leave alone. She may not learn to fight. She may not feel desire, at least officially. In private she sneaks out with her friend Tawny to taverns, reads, asks questions. Her guard Vikter, older and kind, covers for her more than he should.

Hawke Flynn arrives after an attack kills guards. Young, handsome, mouthy, skilled. He is assigned to Poppy and immediately breaks protocol by talking to her like a person. He asks what she wants. He teaches her to dagger. He flirts outrageously. Poppy is furious and drawn. Their banter carries the first third. He calls her Princess. She threatens him. He smiles wider. It is a familiar dynamic, done with enough snap to work.

Under banter, Armentrout builds dread. The Ascended, especially the Duke who controls Poppy's city, are cruel behind ceremony. Tithes. Punishments. Disappearances. Poppy sees a family punished and cannot intervene without risk. She heals with a touch she does not understand. She senses emotions. She dreams of a wolf with golden eyes. She remembers little of her parents' death. Questions pile. Why is the Maiden so restricted? What is Ascension really? Why do the wolven watch her?

Veil, dagger, and Hawke

The Maiden rules shape every scene. Poppy cannot show her face. She cannot be touched by men. She cannot choose. Armentrout uses the veil as both plot and symbol. When veiled, Poppy is an object people project holiness onto. Unveiled in private with Tawny or Vikter, she is curious, funny, angry. Hawke's refusal to look away is political, not just romantic. He sees her. That verb matters in this book.

Training scenes are a highlight. Hawke starts teaching Poppy to use a dagger in secret. Footwork. Grip. How to fall. How to aim for soft spots. Poppy bruises, complains, improves. Vikter disapproves then assists. These chapters give Poppy agency beyond sneaking. She is not just waiting to be saved. She practices when alone. She hides blades. When Craven attack later, she uses skill, not luck. I liked that progression, even when dialogue around it is heavy with teasing.

The romance builds through talk and proximity. Guarding means hours together. Rides. Meals. Stairs. Hawke asks about books, scars, fears. Poppy asks about his past, which he deflects with jokes. They argue about duty. He tells her she deserves choice. She tells him choice is dangerous for her. Their first kiss is not soft. It is frustrated and hungry. Later scenes are explicit and frequent. Armentrout writes heat well if you like open door. If you do not, know this turns steamy around the middle and stays there.

Tawny provides warmth and normalcy. She is also Chosen in a lesser way, chatty, loyal, dreaming of Ascension. Her friendship with Poppy feels real. They cover for each other. They gossip. They fear together. Vikter is the steady older guard who loves Poppy like a daughter and hides truths to protect her. His fate early on shifts Poppy from restless to determined. I felt that loss more than I expected because Vikter was one of few adults who treated her gently without wanting something.

The Duke is vile in ways that escalate. Public whippings. Private summons. Lessons about obedience. Poppy endures while noting details. Hawke watches and barely contains rage. Their shared hatred of the Duke bonds them, but Hawke's reactions sometimes seem too personal for a new guard. Armentrout plants clues. A ring. A name. Knowledge he should not have. Reread readers will catch more. First time, I sensed a twist without naming it, which is good design.

Craven attacks punctuate politics. They are fast, rotting, hungry. Mist falls. Bells ring. Guards form lines. Poppy, forbidden to fight, fights anyway when people she loves are threatened. One attack at a public event is chaotic and well staged. Another on the road is worse. Armentrout writes action clearly. Who stands where, who bleeds, who runs. Poppy's healing gift surges under stress, saving some, exposing her. Questions about her blood grow.

Road, revelations, and the Atlantian question

Midbook, Poppy must travel to the capital for her Ascension rites. Hawke leads her guard. The road becomes its own story. Inns. Forests. Ambushes. Deserters who say the Ascended lie. A group called the Dark One's supporters who claim the kingdom's history is false. Poppy hears that Atlantians, long thought enemies, may be victims. That the Ascended may create Craven. That her parents may have known. She dismisses, then doubts, then investigates by listening.

Kieran, a wolven who can shift to wolf and man, joins the party and steals scenes. Dry, loyal, watchful. His bond with Hawke is deep and unexplained at first. He teases Poppy, guards her, smells lies. The wolf from dreams appears more. Poppy's senses sharpen. She feels heartbeats, tastes power, heals faster. Armentrout explains through myth fragments rather than lectures, which keeps momentum. You learn as Poppy dares to ask.

The romance deepens on the road because danger strips manners. Hawke and Poppy argue about sacrifice. He wants her to live free even if it means leaving duty. She fears freedom means death for those she leaves. They make promises they cannot keep. They share a bed for warmth and then for more. One quiet night where Poppy talks about her parents and Hawke goes still taught me more than fight scenes. He knows something. He hates knowing.

Armentrout also expands the world through side towns. A healer who fears the Duke. A lord who drinks too much and talks too freely. A temple where Maidens before vanished. Poppy collects inconsistencies like stones. Why are records missing? Why do Ascended avoid sunlight in odd ways? Why does her blood excite Craven and calm wolven? Each answer points to a larger lie. The book is long at 627 pages partly because it lingers here, letting dread build. I liked the lingering, though a few inn conversations repeat.

A fair criticism is info control. Armentrout withholds basic history to preserve twists, so the world can feel thin early. What are the kingdoms? How does Ascension work? What do common people eat, pay, believe? You get glimpses, not map. Fans of intricate systems may get impatient. The focus is Poppy's cage and Hawke's mouth, not economics. Once the road opens, context improves, but never to Sanderson levels. Know what you are buying.

Another criticism is power balance. Hawke is much more experienced, older in war if not years, and Poppy is sheltered. Armentrout tries to level them by making Poppy gifted and stubborn, and by having Hawke ask consent often. Mostly it works, but a few scenes where he orders her for safety then kisses her blurred lines for me. Readers sensitive to age and experience gaps should note it. The book frames Hawke as respectful of choice, and largely shows it, yet the guard role complicates.

The turn and what it costs

The final hundred pages move fast and change everything. I will keep spoilers broad. Hawke's identity is revealed. He is not who he claimed. His mission involved Poppy from the start. Loyal to whom? That answer reframes every flirtation. Poppy feels used and also sees truth in his feelings. Armentrout lets both be true. He lied. He also protected. Poppy must decide in hours what most people get years to sort.

Ascension truth also breaks open. What happens to the Chosen, what the Ascended are, how Craven are made. Poppy learns her own bloodline matters more than sermons said. Her parents' choices look different. The Queen and Duke look worse. Old allies look compromised. New enemies offer uncomfortable help. Poppy chooses to fight rather than kneel, using training Hawke gave her, which is a nice knife turn. The gift he gave in secret becomes the tool she uses against his plans.

The climax has battles, captures, rescues, and a ritual interrupted. Poppy heals, stabs, screams, runs. Kieran shifts. Tawny suffers. Vikter's lessons echo. Hawke begs and bleeds. Armentrout writes the chaos with feeling. No one escapes clean. The last chapter ends on a vow and a separation that demands the next book. I immediately wanted book two, which is the point of a 627 page opener.

Tawny, Vikter, and what Poppy can do

I want to give more room to Tawny because she is easy to dismiss as comic relief and she is more than that. She believes in Ascension sincerely. She wants the ceremony, the honor, the safety it promises. When Poppy doubts, Tawny feels hurt, not just afraid. Their talks in bedrooms and carriages show two girls raised in the same cage choosing different doors. Tawny clings to faith because the alternative is too large. Poppy pulls at threads because she cannot stop. Neither is foolish. When Tawny is harmed late in the book, it lands hard because she never asked to be part of rebellion. She just loved her friend.

Vikter deserves similar attention. He is older, scarred, funny in a dry way, and he has guarded Poppy for years. He knows pieces of her history and hides them, telling himself it is protection. He spars with Hawke over methods. He slips Poppy extra food, extra time outside, extra warnings. His death early on the road is the moment Poppy stops sneaking and starts planning. She replays his drills word for word. She cleans his blade. She asks Hawke to teach her the move Vikter never got to finish. Grief becomes training here, which felt honest. You practice what the dead taught because stopping feels like losing them twice.

Poppy's gift also needs a clear note. She can feel others' pain as heat and pressure, then ease it by touch, taking some into herself. Small cuts close. Fevers drop. Nightmares soften. Afterward she shakes, nosebleeds, sleeps hard. The Ascended call it blessing from the gods. Deserters call it something older, tied to Atlantian blood. Poppy fears using it in public because healing marks her as different in a place that punishes difference. Hawke urges her to hide it until they understand, then urges her to trust herself when hiding costs lives. That shift, from hide to choose, is the quiet spine of the book. Power is not the point. Permission to decide is.

Craven work best when Armentrout keeps them animal, not clever. They were people once, bitten and left to rot while hungry. They smell blood, hear breath, run in packs. Mist helps them. Fire slows them. Poppy's blood excites them more than others, which she learns on the road when a pack turns past armed men toward her. Hawke forms a wall. Kieran snarls. She cuts her own arm to draw them off Tawny once, a scene that scared me because it is both brave and reckless. Afterward Hawke is furious and shaken, not grateful in a simple way. Care looks like anger when fear runs it.

After finishing, I thought about what the book argues. Choice versus safety. Faith versus evidence. Purity rules that serve power. Poppy starts as a girl told holiness means passivity. She ends as a woman who believes care means action. Hawke starts as a man using charm as cover. He ends exposed, asking to be judged. Their dynamic will annoy readers who want equal knowledge from the start, but as a story of unlearning control, it works.

Who should read it? Fantasy romance fans who like banter, heat, and heroines who pick up blades. Readers who loved Sarah J. Maas's early books or vampire courts will feel home. If you dislike love triangles of loyalty, long teasing, or cliffhangers, wait until you can binge. If you need standalone endings, skip. This is book one of Blood and Ash for a reason. It opens doors and leaves several burning.

I closed it tired in a good way. Long, yes. Sometimes repetitive, yes. But Poppy's voice held me, Hawke's grin held me, Kieran's growl held me. Armentrout knows how to make 627 pages feel like a weekend. I forgave thin maps for strong faces. When Poppy finally says what she will and will not give, I believed her. That is enough to keep going.