The Serpent and the Wings of Night is the first installment in the Crowns of Nyaxia
series by Carissa Broadbent. It is a dark "romantasy" novel that blends high-stakes survival trials with a slow-burn enemies-to-lovers romance. Often described as "The Hunger Games meets vampires," the story follows Oraya, a human girl raised in a brutal vampire court who enters a legendary tournament to secure her safety in a world designed to prey on her. Quick Facts Carissa Broadbent. Adult Dark Fantasy / Romantasy. Key Tropes:
Enemies-to-lovers, forced proximity, deadly tournament, found family, "sunshine" love interest/grumpy protagonist. Approximately 504 pages. Core Narrative Themes The Kejari Tournament:
The central plot revolves around the Kejari, a lethal competition held every 100 years by the goddess of death, Nyaxia. The victor is granted a single wish, which Oraya hopes to use to shed her human vulnerability. Survival and Identity:
Living as a human among predators, Oraya struggles with her sense of belonging. Her identity is shaped by her adoptive father, Vincent—the King of the Nightborn—who rescued her as a child and trained her to be a ruthless warrior. Complex Father-Daughter Bond:
A major highlight for many readers is the "toxic yet touching" relationship between Oraya and Vincent. Their bond is marked by genuine love mixed with the brutal pragmatism required to survive in the House of Night. Slow-Burn Romance:
Oraya enters a tenuous alliance with Raihn, a rival vampire from a different clan. Their relationship evolves from mutual suspicion to deep-seated loyalty, though critics often debate the impact of the book's final twist on their dynamic.
Some VK groups share pirated copies. Supporting the author through official translations (when available) or purchasing the original English eBook is always encouraged. But for discussion, community, and creativity, VK is an unexpected gem for English and Russian-speaking fans alike.
For the uninitiated, searching "serpent and the wings of night vk" is rarely about finding an official publisher’s page. Instead, it is a quest for community. VK, with its robust file-sharing capabilities and dedicated "public pages" (pubs), has become a haven for translated and fan-edited versions of popular novels.
Readers flock to VK for three specific reasons regarding this book:
Search for “Змей и крылья ночи” (the Russian title) or “Carissa Broadbent” to find groups like:
When the sun left the world to the keepers of shadow, the city of Veros closed its shutters and the merchants of daylight counted their coins. In the alleys where lantern-glow turned to gray, a rumor moved like a cold wind: the Wings of Night had come down from the highest ledges of the old cathedral. People said the feathers were stitched from storm and the eyes that watched from them knew the weight of guilt.
Iris Valen, who mended boots for the harborfolk, had never believed in omens. She believed in leather, wax, and the steady click of thread through, but that evening she found a feather in her palm—black as spilled ink, warm despite the chill. It had a faint pulse, as if something small and patient lived in its barbs. She wrapped it in linen and, against better judgment, took it to the only person who would listen to nonsense without charging a coin: Master Keel, the old apothecary whose shop smelled of iron and old paper.
Keel read the feather as if it were a line of text. "A wing is a promise," he murmured, eyes clouded. "And a nightwing that chooses a hand is rarer than a comet. Beware, girl. Things with wings bear burdens. Something else is listening."
Outside, beneath the cathedral's stone ribs, the ground had been disturbed. There were scale marks—long, glistening trails that faded into the sewer mouth like a question mark. Those who walked past at dusk heard a whispering at the threshold: half-hiss, half-psalm. Old wives swore it was the Serpent, a thing older than Veros itself, which had once nested in the riverbed before the city grew teeth. Parents pulled children close. The mayor ordered watchmen; the watchmen ordered themselves to look brave.
Iris dreamed that night of water filled with sky and a serpent so vast it wore the horizon like a collar. In the dream it spoke, not in words but in impressions: memories of stone warmed by a first sunrise, the slow unraveling of empires, and the sting of metal in its skin. It wanted nothing from her—only a place to rest, a name to answer.
Morning found Iris at the riverbank. The city had woken brittle; fishermen untied their nets with fingers that trembled, bakers set more loaves than usual because fear makes appetites greedy, and children dared one another to peek into the water. The Serpent's trail was clear across the quay—slick scales marking a path where it had breached the quay stones and slid back into deep, dark water. In the shallows, lace of black feather clung to reeds.
"Why show yourself?" Iris asked the current, and the current answered with a ripple that bruised like a secret.
Across town, a council of linen and coin decided to drive the Serpent away. They would light fires, hang bells, and recruit hunters with bright metal and louder mouths. They did not know the thing beneath the river answered to time rather than fear. When the bells rang and the hunters shouted, the Serpent did not rise; instead, it coiled deeper, and the wake left on the water carved a slow, quiet ache through Veros's foundations. Basements flooded. Wells turned brackish. People lost small things: an earring, a savings pouch, a sense of being secure.
Iris, noticing the pattern, began to stitch the feather into the tongue of her client's boots—an honest, private act that felt like placing a stitch in the city's wound. The feather hummed against her palm, and when the boots were tried on, the wearer swore of good luck and a night's sleep untroubled by nightmares. Word spread in whispers—"the boots with the dream-feather"—and soon many lined outside her door.
Master Keel came often to watch her work, bringing jars he claimed were empty. "Night is not merely darkness," he told her. "It is a circle. You can mend a hole, but the circle wants to close. If the Serpent collects what you've given it, Veros will pay in a way none of the councilmen understand." serpent and the wings of night vk
One late dusk, as gulls screamed and the last baker's door closed, a child named Rook vanished. He'd gone to fetch a lost dog near the river and never returned. His mother's shriek cut sharper than any bell. The city searched, dredging nets and magic, calling on watchmen and priests. Hours turned brittle. Then, when hope was thinnest, footprints appeared: small, wet, and edged in black scale-sheen leading toward the cathedral stairs. A single wing-feather lay at the topmost step.
The cathedral was a bastion of cold stone and prayerful hands. Its highest bell, silent for decades, hung like a hollow eye. The watchmen refused to climb. Priests mumbled sacrifices. Iris took the feather, climbed the stairs, and left a line of thread behind her—thin, honest stitches like a lifeline.
At the summit she did not find the child nor a beast of fang and flame. She found a spiral of shadow that smelled of fish and rain and old, loamy earth. On its coils there were letters, like scales but inscribed: words in an old tongue that felt like the ache of remembering. They said, simply, "Hunger. Shelter. Return."
"Why take him?" Iris asked aloud, forcing language into a place that answered with thunder.
A ripple of air, a breath where no wind should be, spoke into the bell. The Serpent's voice was not a voice but a knowledge: it had nested once beneath the city, and where humans built, it lost room enough to rest. Each generation imposes itself upon the world; each leaves less. The Serpent took what reminded it of a softer era: a child's laugh, a fragment of wood, a small white bone—it took these pieces back to line a hollow where it could sleep.
"Return?" Iris echoed. "Return to what?"
"Balance," the Serpent answered. "There are debts sewn in stone."
She could have rung the bell, could have shouted down the priests, could have swung a net and attempted to bind what bound itself to the currents. But the feather in her hand tugged with a memory she could not ignore—the memory of being small and warm beneath a parent's cloak, of being soothed by stories that named the dark and taught how to walk through it.
Iris threaded the feather through the bell's rope, letting it dangle where no one would easily reach. Then she climbed down into the nave.
She proposed a pact—not to the council, which had too many eyes on gold, but to the city in a way cities understand: through ceremony and craft. She asked people for small things to give back to the river that had given them fish, blessing, and danger. Farmers sent wooden spoons; teachers sent slates carved from old schoolhouse benches; the baker cut a loaf and set a crumb in a little box. Each offering was a stitch of apology, a promise to leave room.
The Wings of Night watched from ledge and shadow as citizens of Veros laid their scraps and keepsakes at the waterline. The Serpent, which had widened its sleep into a wound, began to coil differently. Where there had been hunger, there was a hollow slowly filling. The water calmed—no longer churning with accusatory circles but ticking like a clock that had found its hands.
Not everything could be returned. Some things the city would never retrieve: the faces of those gone before, the mortar missing from old walls, the ease of life when the harbor was small. But the ritual stitched a seam. Rook came back three nights later, smelling of riverweed and sleep, with an odd calm about him and a promise that he had been shown where things went to keep when the world wanted too many things at once.
Master Keel called the pact a bargain, and the council called it superstition. The watchmen called it inconvenient. But the water held its breath differently. The cathedral's bell rang once, a single low note that seemed to lift the city's shoulders. The Wings of Night scattered feather-dust like an afterthought, reminding everyone that dark could carry beauty as well as threat.
Years later, children would make wishes on black feathers and fishermen would bless their nets with a stitch of linen. Iris kept one feather in her shop, tucked into a small sealed jar that fogged from time to time with a breath no one could explain. People came and left, but each knew the lesson stitched in Veros's stones: that a city is never only what it takes, and a river is never only what it gives. Between them, there must be room.
On cold nights, when the sky was a pressed sheet of velvet, you could still see a shape ripple beneath the water by the old quay. Sometimes its head would rise just enough to watch the city, like an old sentinel checking that promises had been kept. The Wings of Night folded across its back, and in the feathers the stars trembled for a moment—then settled, as if agreeing that some debts are best paid with small, honest things.
End.
The Serpent and the Wings of Night by Carissa Broadbent is a dark fantasy romance (often called "romantasy") that blends a deadly tournament with high-stakes vampire politics. It is the first book in the Crowns of Nyaxia Plot Overview The story follows
, the adopted human daughter of the Nightborn vampire king, Vincent. Living as prey in a world of predators, her only path to true safety and power is to enter the
, a legendary tournament held once every century in honor of the goddess of death, Nyaxia. The winner is granted a single wish by the goddess herself.
The Serpent and the Wings of Night by Carissa Broadbent - Audible The Serpent and the Wings of Night is
The story for The Serpent and the Wings of Night (Crowns of Nyaxia, #1) by Carissa Broadbent follows Oraya, the human adopted daughter of the Nightborn vampire king. In a world where humans are prey, she must enter the Kejari—a brutal tournament held by the goddess of death—to earn her safety and power. Plot Summary
The Stakes: Oraya is a human living in a world of vicious vampires. To survive, she enters the legendary Kejari tournament.
The Conflict: She must battle ruthless warriors from three vampire houses. Winning is her only chance to become more than just prey.
The Alliance: Oraya is forced to team up with a dangerous rival named Raihn, a ruthless vampire and enemy to her father’s crown.
The Romance: Despite the danger, Oraya finds herself drawn to Raihn as war brews for the House of Night, challenging everything she knows about her home. Community and E-book Access (VK)
Readers on VK (ВКонтакте) often share files and recommendations for this series. You can find related posts and e-book files (like .epub) in various community groups:
Digital Copies: Users have shared links to e-books in groups like Hello everyone! and profile walls like Yugadi Nawale.
Audience: The book is classified as Romantasy (Romance + Fantasy) and is recommended for readers aged 18 and up due to its dark magic and mature themes.
Reading Order: This is the first book in the Crowns of Nyaxia series, which consists of three interconnected duologies (six books total). AI responses may include mistakes. Learn more
Yugadi Nawale: записи профиля | ВКонтакте - VK
Overview of the Book
The Serpent and the Wings of Night is a dark fantasy romance novel by American author Carissa Broadbent. It is the first book in the Crowns of Nyaxia series, published in 2022. The novel gained rapid popularity through platforms like TikTok (BookTok) and Kindle Unlimited due to its blend of high-stakes vampire politics, deadly trials, and forbidden love.
Plot Summary
The story follows Oraya, a human girl adopted by the Vampire King of the House of Night. To survive in a world where she is prey, Oraya enters the Kejari: a legendary, once-in-a-century tournament where vampires fight to the death for a god’s blessing. Her main rival—and unexpected ally—is Raihn, a ruthless vampire from the rival House of Blood. The novel explores themes of survival, betrayal, power, and the thin line between enemies and lovers.
Why the Book Went Viral
The Role of VK (Vkontakte)
In Russia and other post-Soviet countries, VK is a primary hub for book communities. Readers use VK to:
Important Note on Copyright and VK
While VK hosts many legitimate book clubs and author pages, it is also known for unofficial file sharing. Many users search for “The Serpent and the Wings of Night VK” hoping to find free PDF or EPUB versions uploaded without authorization.
If you are a reader: Be aware that downloading copyrighted books from unofficial VK posts violates the author’s rights. Carissa Broadbent is an indie author who relies on sales and Kindle Unlimited reads. Supporting her through legal channels (Amazon, Audible, or official translations) ensures she can continue writing. A Word of Caution Some VK groups share pirated copies
If you are a VK community admin: Sharing full pirated copies can lead to VK removing your page or legal action. Instead, consider hosting read-alongs, reviews, or links to legitimate retailers.
Where to Legally Access the Book
Conclusion
The Serpent and the Wings of Night has become a cornerstone of modern dark romance fantasy, and VK serves as a vibrant meeting point for its Russian-speaking fandom. However, while VK can help you discover reviews and fan content, readers are strongly encouraged to access the book legally to support the creator. The sequel, The Ashes and the Star-Cursed King, continues Oraya and Raihn’s story—and is also best enjoyed through official channels.
The Serpent and the Wings of Night by Carissa Broadbent has rapidly become a cornerstone of the "romantasy" genre, blending high-stakes political intrigue with a raw, slow-burn romance. Set in the brutal world of the Kejari—a legendary tournament hosted by the goddess of death—the story follows Oraya, the human adopted daughter of the Vampire King, as she fights for survival among predators who view her as nothing more than prey.
The essay below explores the themes of power, vulnerability, and the blurred lines between enemy and ally that define the work. Survival in the Shadow of Crowns: An Analysis of The Serpent and the Wings of Night
In the landscape of modern fantasy, few tropes are as enduring as the "deadly competition." However, Carissa Broadbent elevates this premise in The Serpent and the Wings of Night
by anchoring the spectacle of the Kejari tournament in a deeply personal exploration of belonging. Through the protagonist, Oraya, Broadbent examines the psychological toll of existing in a world where one’s very nature is an evolutionary disadvantage. The Paradox of Protection
At the heart of the narrative is the complex relationship between Oraya and her father, Vincent, the Nightborn King. Their bond is defined by a paradox: Vincent is both Oraya’s savior and the architect of her trauma. By raising a human in a kingdom of vampires, he provides her with the tools to survive—martial prowess and emotional coldness—while simultaneously stripping away her ability to trust. This "gilded cage" dynamic sets the stage for Oraya’s internal conflict, as she seeks the goddess’s grace not just for power, but for the agency to finally exist without fear. The Enemy as a Mirror
The introduction of Raihn, a rival vampire with a mysterious past, serves as the catalyst for Oraya’s growth. Unlike the mindless predators she grew up fearing, Raihn represents a nuanced threat. Their alliance is born of necessity, but it flourishes because they recognize a shared marginalization; Raihn, a "turned" vampire, is as much an outsider to the aristocratic Nightborn as Oraya is. Broadbent uses their evolving relationship to dismantle the protagonist’s defenses, suggesting that true strength lies not in isolation, but in the vulnerability required to trust another. Atmospheric World-Building
Broadbent’s prose creates a world that feels both ancient and claustrophobic. The House of Night is not merely a setting but a character itself, defined by blood-soaked traditions and a rigid hierarchy. The Kejari tournament serves as a microcosm of this society—violent, meritocratic, and ultimately indifferent to individual suffering. This backdrop heightens the stakes of the romance, making every moment of tenderness feel like a radical act of rebellion against a cruel world. Conclusion The Serpent and the Wings of Night
is more than a tale of magic and monsters; it is a meditation on the cost of survival. By the novel’s conclusion, Broadbent subverts the reader's expectations of victory, proving that the most dangerous "wings" are often the ones we build for ourselves. Oraya’s journey reminds us that while blood may define a lineage, it is the choices made in the dark that define a soul. specific character analysis
(like Vincent’s motivations) or perhaps a breakdown of the ending's plot twist
🔥 Vibes: If you took The Hunger Games, injected it with dark vampire court politics, and added the sizzling tension of A Court of Thorns and Roses, you would get this book. It is often described as "The Hunger Games with Vampires."
⚔️ The Tournament: The heart of the book is the Kejari—a brutal, high-stakes competition that keeps the pacing tight and the stakes lethal. It’s not just about physical strength, but strategy and survival.
🦇 The Romance: This features a delicious enemies-to-lovers trope. The tension between Oraya and Raihn is palpable. It is a slow burn that feels earned, navigating the complexities of enemy allegiances and forbidden attraction.
🩸 The World-Building: Broadbent creates a distinct vampire lore with different houses (Night, Blood, and Shadow) that have unique cultures and abilities. It’s dark, atmospheric, and immersive.
A Review of The Serpent and the Wings of Night by Carissa Broadbent
There is a specific allure to a story that begins in a human blood barn and ends in a throne room drenched in betrayal. Carissa Broadbent’s The Serpent and the Wings of Night is not merely a fantasy novel; it is a gothic symphony of survival, drawing heavy inspiration from The Hunger Games while wrapping it in the brooding, aristocratic velvet of Vampire Knight.
For those who crave high-stakes tension, morally grey love interests, and a heroine who wields her trauma like a weapon, this is your next obsession.