Affliction is far from a light or escapist read. It is emotionally intense, relentlessly brutal, and intricately woven with themes of politics, power, and suffering. The novel immerses the reader in a grim world where magic functions not only as a force of nature but also as a symbol of privilege, oppression, and weaponization. At its core is Nicolas, a reluctant prince turned captive, whose story begins with the violent fall of his father and evolves into a harrowing exploration of identity, guilt, and endurance under the control of a ruthless new Alpha. Blending the grit of war-torn fantasy with the depth of psychological introspection, this book is as emotionally draining as it is compelling.

What struck me most from the outset was the narrative voice; Nicolas’s tone is unmistakable. He is bitter, wounded, and acutely self-aware, with a restrained sarcasm that serves to temper the bleakness of his reality. His early reflections are laced with dread and resentment, yet beneath them lies a quiet yearning for something more. The prose is unflinching; it confronts the reader directly and unapologetically. One particularly harrowing example is Nicolas’s account of the lycan curse, how his father stripped werewolves of their identities and rendered them sterile to create a slave class. The depiction is visceral and deeply disturbing. There is no attempt to soften the horror, nor should there be. Jarnigan deliberately ensures the full weight of this world is felt, and in doing so, she succeeds with devastating clarity.

I appreciated how unflinching this book was about trauma and survival. Nicolas is no noble hero; he’s shattered, haunted, and, honestly, kind of a mess, and that makes him feel real. One moment that stuck with me was when he’s forced to bathe the Alpha who killed his family. The tension is unbearable. Not just because of the power dynamic, but because of what it reveals about Nicolas’s psyche, how much he’s endured, how much he’s internalized. It’s raw and uncomfortable, but that’s what made it brilliant. You want him to break free, but you also see why he can’t. The magic system and training he went through were so abusive that it redefined what “strength” even looks like for him.

At times, the emotional depth of the narrative becomes profoundly immersive, drawing the reader into Nicolas’s internal world with unrelenting intensity. The pacing in the middle of the book shifts to allow for extended introspection, offering a deeper understanding of the protagonist’s psychological landscape. These reflective passages provide a thoughtful pause amid the turmoil, enriching the character development and adding complexity to the unfolding drama. The novel is punctuated with arresting scenes, such as the haunting moment when Nicolas witnesses the burning of his father’s spellbooks, that reignite the story’s intensity. The character of the Alpha, Nicolas’s captor, emerges as a compelling figure: not merely a force of violence, but a layered antagonist whose motives and history unfold with careful precision. While he is far from likable, there is a magnetic, unsettling fascination in following his role in the narrative, testament to Jarnigan’s skill in crafting complex, morally ambiguous characters.

Affliction is not a story about redemption; it’s about reckoning. It’s about surviving the worst parts of yourself and others, and still daring to hope there’s more. I’d recommend this to fans of dark fantasy who don’t mind sitting with discomfort. If you’re into morally gray characters, messy emotions, and plots that don’t flinch from cruelty or complexity, you’ll find a lot to admire here.

Pages: 590 | ASIN: B0F3DPNJ19