Rebel Witch Audiobook – Crimson Moth, Book 2

I pressed play on Rebel Witch while curled up under my favorite quilt during a rainy Portland evening, not realizing that by dawn I’d feel like I’d been tossed through an emotional storm of fire and heartbreak—and loved every minute of it. Kristen Ciccarelli doesn’t just wrap up her duology; she ignites it, drenching each chapter in grief, hope, rage, and the kind of messy love that sticks with you long after you close your eyes.

Having devoured The Crimson Moth last year on long walks around Laurelhurst Park, I already knew Rune Winters was no ordinary heroine. But here? She’s shattered and remade in ways so raw they felt personal. There’s something deeply familiar about Rune’s journey—her blend of vulnerability and fierce resolve reminded me of times in my own life when I had to keep moving even though fear whispered at every step. Her pain is palpable; her courage isn’t loud or easy but carved out with trembling hands. That authenticity pulled me deeper into her fight—a desperate flight from those who hunt witches like animals, yes, but also from the parts of herself she’s most afraid to face.

Ciccarelli’s world-building remains hauntingly immersive: cities rife with suspicion, alliances shifting beneath your feet like ice breaking over river currents. The action never lets up—I almost missed my train stop twice because scenes were exploding (sometimes literally) with new betrayals or impossible choices. Yet what sets this finale apart isn’t just its breathless pace—it’s how those battles are woven into a tapestry of longing and loss.

If you’re a sucker for enemies-to-lovers romance as tangled as wild briars (guilty), prepare for torment: Rune and Gideon Sharpe are magnetic chaos incarnate. Gideon—the boy who once betrayed everything for love—is now driven by anger sharp enough to cut glass…and yet every moment he shares with Rune pulses with yearning and regret so vivid it hurt to listen sometimes. Their dynamic is Romeo-and-Juliet levels tragic but refuses any illusion of softness; theirs is a relationship forged by trauma and necessity, laced equally with fury and devotion.

And then there’s Grace Gray’s narration—honestly one of the best performances I’ve heard this year. Grace embodies Rune in all her bruised resilience; her voice trembles at precisely the right moments (there’s a scene near the climax where I genuinely had to pause just to breathe). She brings each character—from calculating Cressida to conflicted Gideon—to life so distinctly that you forget you’re hearing only one narrator. Every shuddering sob, every threat cloaked in tenderness lands exactly as Ciccarelli intends.

What did I struggle with? Only that some plot twists came relentlessly fast—it felt almost punishing at times—but maybe that relentless momentum mirrors real change: brutal, inevitable, hard-won. And be warned: this book does not flinch from darkness—there are depictions of war trauma and betrayal that hit hard if you’re sensitive (please check content warnings). Still…if you have room for heartbreak next to your hope? This audiobook rewards every risk taken alongside these characters.

For me—someone who loves stories about forging light from ashes—Rebel Witch is unforgettable. Its themes aren’t neatly resolved; sacrifices echo well beyond “The End.” But there’s beauty here too—in second chances barely grasped before slipping away again—and questions about power, redemption, love worth bleeding for.

By sunrise my heart felt split open…but strangely whole again too. If you want fantasy full of teeth and tenderness—a story willing both to break you down and remind you why we keep fighting anyway—you’ll find yourself swept away by Rebel Witch.