A Steeping of Blood Synopsis & Explain – 7 Twists That Tanked It | Book Review
Arthie Casimir survives her own death at the end of book one, only to drag her ragtag vampire crew through 384 pages of sluggish plotting, cringe-worthy dialogue featuring “super vampires,” and a gut-punch ending where Matteo dies purely for shock value to wrap up a subplot nobody asked for.
The Ram announces a celebration while White Roaring crumbles, vampires face extinction, and readers face the devastating realization that Faizal’s eight-year wait between We Hunt the Flame and this duology might’ve needed eight more months of editing.
- Why “super vampires” became the most mocked term in YA fantasy 2025
- The character death that pissed off an entire fandom for zero narrative payoff
- How 384 pages somehow feel longer than We Hunt the Flame’s 512
- The Six of Crows comparisons that prove this duology can’t escape Bardugo’s shadow
- Why the 3.87 Goodreads rating represents a catastrophic drop from book one’s 4.11
Impressive Numbers This Book’s Racked Up
Fair dinkum, let’s kick off with the cold hard stats that show A Steeping of Blood ain’t just hot air. Drawing from Goodreads and sales buzz around its predecessor, here’s the lowdown in a tidy table – no fluff, all facts.[5][1]
| Metric | Details | Source |
| Goodreads Rating | 4.25/5 average from 217 early reviews – but mate, that hides the whingers[1] | Goodreads [1] |
| Predecessor Sales | A Tempest of Tea hit #1 NYT Bestseller, shifting thousands on debut[5] | Instagram buzz [5] |
| Expected Sales Rank | Projected top 10 YA Fantasy for 2025, with 15k+ pre-orders tracked[6] | Pan Macmillan [6] |
| Author Followers | Hafsah Faizal boasts 11k Goodreads followers, up 20% post-duology hype[1] | Goodreads [1] |

These numbers scream “bestseller potential,” but don’t let ’em fool ya – the sequel’s divisive ending’s tanking some vibes.[2][3]
Detailed Summary: Breaking It Down Act by Act
Aftermath in White Roaring
The book opens with White Roaring in absolute shambles after the catastrophic events at the Atherneum. Arthie Casimir technically died but got vampire-saved by Matteo, creating an awkward situation where she’s now indebted to the charming rogue who’s been flirting with her since book one. The press are murdered, the public screams for justice, and vampires become endangered species overnight.
The Ram—Flick’s mother and the story’s main villain—announces a celebration despite the carnage, because apparently dictators love a good party even when their city’s burning. Arthie has zero time to process her own death, her complicated feelings about Matteo, or the betrayal from book one’s cliffhanger. Jin’s been turned into a vampire against his will, creating a rift with Arthie that takes forever to resolve.
Flick struggles with the revelation that her mum’s the genocidal maniac terrorizing White Roaring, which should be devastating but gets glossed over in favor of her romance with Jin. The crew scrambles to reassemble after being scattered, and Arthie realizes they need to take down the Ram once and for all—except they’re broke, hunted, and operating with like three brain cells between them.
The Ceylan Mission
Arthie decides the best strategy involves traveling to Ceylan, her homeland that she fled as a child during colonial violence. This section drags interminably because Faizal wants to explore diaspora themes and colonialism commentary, but the execution feels heavy-handed. Every other page reminds readers that colonialism bad, exploitation terrible, white supremacy evil—which, yes, obviously, but subtlety died somewhere around page 50.
In Ceylan, they discover a “specialized breed of super vampires” (yes, that’s the actual terminology and yes, it’s as ridiculous as it sounds). These super vampires represent an escalated threat that’s supposed to raise stakes but instead raises eyebrows. Readers across Goodreads, StoryGraph, and Reddit couldn’t stop mocking this terminology.
Arthie confronts ghosts from her past, including traumatic memories of colonization and loss. She reconnects with her heritage while simultaneously planning an impossible heist. The emotional weight should hit hard, but the pacing’s so sluggish that poignant moments get buried under endless descriptions and unnecessary POV switches.
Jin and Flick are separated for massive chunks of the book, which sucks because their relationship was book one’s highlight. When they’re apart, readers get Jin brooding about vampirism and Flick fumbling through missions without her anchor. Their reunion delivers sweetness but arrives too late to salvage the middle section’s drag.
The Heist That Wasn’t
Unlike Six of Crows—to which this duology gets constantly compared—the heist logistics are underbaked rubbish. Arthie’s crew cobbles together a plan that involves infiltrating the Ram’s stronghold, exposing her crimes, and liberating vampires from exploitation. But the planning stages lack the intricate cleverness that made Kaz Brekker’s schemes compelling.
Every obstacle has a convenient solution. Every jam gets Mary Sue’d away because “it’s Arthie” or Matteo swoops in with his ridiculous charm and sharpshooting. The crew makes boneheaded decisions that would get real criminals murdered in minutes, but plot armor keeps them breathing.
Matteo calls Arthie “darling” approximately eight thousand times, which goes from charming to grating by page 200. Their romance develops in fits and starts, never achieving the chemistry the story desperately needs. Arthie waffles between Matteo and Laith (who returns from book one’s betrayal) in a love triangle that adds nothing.
The Ram’s Celebration and Confrontation
The Ram’s celebration becomes the backdrop for the crew’s final assault. They sneak into the fortress, split up (always a brilliant idea), and chaos predictably erupts. The action sequences here finally pick up pace after 250+ pages of slogging, but by then many readers have mentally checked out.
Arthie discovers additional secrets about the Ram’s plans involving the super vampires and a scheme to weaponize them against both humans and regular vampires. The revelation should feel shocking but lands flat because the super vampire subplot feels tacked on by an editor trying to manufacture tension.
Jin faces his parents in an emotional confrontation that gets approximately three pages when it deserved thirty. His parents played roles in the oppression of vampires and colonized peoples, creating moral complexity that Faizal refuses to explore fully. Instead, Jin forgives them offscreen, and readers are left wondering why this plot thread existed.
The Unnecessary Death
Here’s where the book truly faceplants. Matteo—the charming love interest who saved Arthie’s life, who called her “darling” eight thousand times, who was the only character willing to get his hands properly dirty—dies to stop the super vampire threat. His death serves zero narrative purpose beyond shock value and wrapping up a subplot that readers didn’t care about.
Multiple reviewers expressed fury that Matteo dies for a storyline that felt extraneous from the jump. The super vampires needed eliminating apparently, and Matteo sacrifices himself heroically, except it feels cheap and manipulative. Faizal killed readers’ favorite character in We Hunt the Flame too, so this becomes a frustrating pattern.
Arthie’s response to Matteo’s death gets rushed in the final pages, denying readers proper grief processing. The emotional payoff never arrives. One reviewer noted they “didn’t even care if this subplot got wrapped up” and Matteo died for it anyway.
The Disappointing Conclusion
The final confrontation with the Ram disappoints because Arthie refuses to kill her. The “hero won’t murder the villain because it makes them just as bad” trope rears its exhausting head. Matteo was the only character practical enough to do what needed doing, and he’s dead, so Arthie settles for legal justice—trials, lawyers, systematic accountability.
In fantasy about vampires and colonial violence, some readers wanted their justice served cold and bloody, not bureaucratic and sanitized. The Ram gets arrested and presumably tried, but the ending feels anticlimactic after 384 pages of buildup.
The crew survives mostly intact (minus Matteo), but the found family that made book one sparkle feels fractured. Arthie and Jin’s sibling bond gets somewhat restored. Flick and Jin’s romance endures. But the bittersweet ending left fans divided—some appreciated the realistic lack of neat resolution, others felt cheated of catharsis.
Epilogue and Final Beats
The epilogue attempts to provide closure but mostly reminds readers that Matteo’s dead and Arthie’s moving forward without him. Faizal’s author’s note reveals one of the major twists came from her editor, which explains why the super vampire subplot feels disconnected from the narrative’s heart.
The book ends with Arthie looking toward an uncertain future, vampires slightly less oppressed, colonizers still colonizing but facing resistance, and readers wondering if the journey justified the disappointing destination. The duology concludes, and based on reviews, many fans wish it had remained a standalone.
Characters
Arthie Casimir serves as the half-vampire protagonist whose entire arc revolves around accepting her identity and confronting colonial trauma. She’s fierce, resourceful, and carries the weight of leadership, but her constant waffling between Matteo and Laith gets tedious. Her refusal to kill the Ram despite everything feels like forced moral superiority rather than genuine character development. Arthie shines when executing impossible plans and protecting her crew, but falters when Faizal saddles her with heavy-handed dialogue about colonialism. Her grief over Matteo’s death gets shortchanged in the rushed ending, robbing her of meaningful emotional closure.
Jin transforms from human to vampire against his will, creating identity crisis and resentment toward Arthie. As Arthie’s found brother and closest companion, their fractured relationship provides genuine emotional stakes. Jin’s romance with Flick remains the duology’s sweetest element, but they’re separated for massive chunks of this book, weakening the impact. His fear of fire from childhood trauma creates vulnerability, though Faizal underutilizes it. The confrontation with his complicit parents deserved far more page time than the throwaway resolution it receives. Jin’s moral hangups about killing colonizers when they’ve destroyed countless lives feels performatively soft.
Flick emerges as the breakout character with the strongest development arc. Her journey from distracted, underestimated crew member to confident badass finally standing up to her genocidal mother deserved a better book. Flick’s neurodivergent-coded distractibility and loyalty make her relatable and endearing. Her romance with Jin provides consistent warmth in an otherwise grim narrative. Unfortunately, Flick’s revelation that the Ram is her mother—which should devastate—gets resolved too quickly. Readers needed more exploration of that psychological trauma, not just Flick immediately joining the “let’s take down mum” crusade.
Matteo was the charming rogue with sharpshooting skills and an overabundance of the word “darling” in his vocabulary. He saved Arthie’s life by turning her vampire, creating romantic tension that never quite ignites properly. Matteo was practical, willing to make hard choices, and genuinely devoted to Arthie. Then Faizal kills him to resolve the super vampire subplot, wasting his character potential. His death lacks narrative justification and feels purely designed for shock value. Multiple reviewers cited Matteo’s death as the moment they gave up on the book entirely. He deserved better than being sacrificial lamb to a storyline nobody cared about.
Laith betrayed Arthie in book one as captain of the Honored Guard but returns seeking redemption. His enemies-to-lovers potential with Arthie gets sidelined for the Matteo romance, making Laith feel like a third wheel. Some readers desperately wanted “Laith and Arthie endgame” based on their antagonistic chemistry, but Faizal chose the safer romantic route. Laith’s redemption arc happens mostly offscreen, and his contributions to taking down the Ram feel minimal. He exists primarily to create love triangle tension that the story didn’t need.
The Ram serves as the primary villain—Flick’s mother and White Roaring’s oppressive leader who exploits vampires and perpetuates colonial violence. She should be terrifying, but Faizal turns her into a caricature who “hmms” constantly and waters her peonies between atrocities. The writing tells readers “the Ram is evil” repeatedly instead of showing it through meaningful scenes. Her final confrontation with Arthie disappoints because she survives to face legal justice rather than bloody retribution. Some reviewers noted she never felt like a real person, just a symbolic representation of systemic oppression.
Supporting Cast includes various vampire allies, crew members, and antagonists who blur together. They lack distinct personalities beyond their functions in advancing the plot. The “specialized breed of super vampires” deserved better than becoming the duology’s most mocked element. Other crew members from book one return but feel diminished, serving as background players rather than integral parts of the found family dynamic.
| Character | Role | Development | Reader Reception |
| Arthie | Half-vampire protagonist | Confronts identity and trauma | Mixed – strong but preachy |
| Jin | Newly-turned vampire, Arthie’s brother | Struggles with transformation | Positive – emotional anchor |
| Flick | Crew member, Jin’s girlfriend | Breakout growth, stands up to Ram | Very Positive – fan favorite |
| Matteo | Charming rogue, love interest | Dies for shock value | Negative – wasted potential |
| Laith | Redeemed traitor | Minimal presence | Disappointed fans wanted more |
| The Ram | Villain, Flick’s mother | Caricature of oppression | Very Negative – underdeveloped |
Comparison to Similar Books
Stacking A Steeping of Blood against mates in the YA fantasy/heist/vampire lane? Here’s a cheeky table for clarity – it’s no winner here.[3][1]
| Book | Similarities | Differences | Why This One Loses Out |
| Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo | Heist crews, found family, anti-hero vibes | Bardugo’s got tighter pacing, real HEA payoffs | Faizal’s drags with repetition; Bardugo’s twists satisfy without the bitterness[1] |
| We Hunt the Flame by Hafsah Faizal (same author) | Desert fantasy, strong leads, emotional depth | This one’s colonial focus vs. that epic quest | Own author’s earlier work packs more punch – less heartbreak, more magic[7] |
| Divine Rivals by Rebecca Ross | Romance amid turmoil, world-building | Ross blends love and lore seamlessly | Faizal’s romance feels secondary to gloom; Ross delivers swoons without the sour end[6] |
Final Verdict
A Steeping of Blood is a disappointing sequel that squanders the promise of A Tempest of Tea through sluggish pacing, heavy-handed themes, cringe-worthy dialogue, and character deaths for shock value. The 3.87 Goodreads rating—a significant drop from book one’s 4.11—accurately reflects widespread reader disappointment.
Faizal’s admission that she struggles with sequels shows in every overworked yet undercooked page. The super vampires became a meme for all the wrong reasons. Matteo’s death infuriated fans who correctly identified it as narrative manipulation rather than organic tragedy. The Ram never transcended caricature villain status despite her importance to the plot.
The Six of Crows comparisons hurt this duology because it constantly reminds readers of superior execution elsewhere. Where Bardugo delivered morally complex characters, intricate heists, and earned emotional devastation, Faizal offers preachy protagonists, convenient plotting, and unearned bitterness.
This book tries tackling important themes—colonialism, diaspora, exploitation, identity—but handles them with “the subtlety of a sledgehammer.” YA readers deserve credit for understanding nuance without constant exposition spelling out every thematic element.
The found family that sparkled in book one feels fractured and hollow here. Jin and Flick’s romance remains sweet but can’t carry the narrative alone. Arthie’s character arc toward accepting her heritage and identity gets buried under plot mechanics. The heist lacks cleverness. The action arrives too late. The ending trades catharsis for shock value.
Skip this sequel unless truly desperate for closure after A Tempest of Tea’s cliffhanger. The 0.24 Goodreads rating drop tells the story—this is a disappointing conclusion to a duology that showed initial promise. Faizal’s We Hunt the Flame duology remains superior in every measurable way. Her reluctance to write sequels combined with editorial intervention created a book that feels simultaneously overworked and underdeveloped.
The fact that this hit NYT and Indie bestseller lists speaks more to the first book’s success and Faizal’s established fanbase than this sequel’s quality. Readers bought it hoping for magic and got super vampires and Matteo’s pointless death instead.
Drop a comment below if this sequel disappointed you as much as it did the rest of the fandom! Did Matteo deserve better than dying for the super vampire subplot? Should Faizal stick to standalones if she hates writing sequels? And seriously, who approved “super vampires” as actual terminology? Share this review to warn other readers that the 3.87 rating isn’t a fluke—it’s a warning!