A Power Unbound by Freya Marske, the final instalment in the Last Binding trilogy, is a triumphant conclusion that builds on the two previous books, resolves major plot points in clever and interesting ways—while still leaving room for more—and delivers a simultaneously scorching and heartwarming final romantic pairing, in the form of Jack Alston and Alan Ross. While the first two books in the series could theoretically be read as standalones, A Power Unbound excels by referencing past plot events and deepening the growth of all the series’ characters.
In fact, this third book was my favourite of the series, and I tore through it in only two sittings. With each book in the series focusing on a specific romantic pairing, yet with common plot threads deepening and growing through each instalment, Marske’s writing skills, worldbuilding, and character work have improved by leaps and bounds across this trilogy. While the first book, A Marvellous Light, was fun and well written, I must confess to not being as emotionally invested in the story or in Robin and Edwin’s romance; for me, the strongest elements in that book were the worldbuilding, the individual emotional tensions of the two main characters, and their relationships with side characters such as siblings or past lovers. I enjoyed the dynamic of A Restless Truth much more: I loved Maud and Violet’s romance, and found the tone, humour, and setting much more to my taste. Even the emotional themes and the development of the romance felt more impactful, especially with the storyline of a romance that could’ve been acting as an important contrast and foil to the book’s main pairing.
However, perhaps because book two had already laid the groundwork for the third book by introducing Jack, Alan, and their potential dynamic, A Power Unbound was simply spectacular. It was enchanting and hilarious and tugged at my heartstrings, and the dynamic between Jack and Alan was delicious. Absolutely one of my favourite types of pairings. Almost every aspect of the story felt stronger and more elevated.
The prose itself immediately caught my eye, and continued to delight me with beautiful descriptions and clever turns of phrase: “Elsie Alston’s running feet hit the grass like pale secrets,” the book begins, and doesn’t let up. Moreover, Marske uses her prose to masterfully build tension in the first chapter as she builds up to the incident hinted at in A Restless Truth, and to play Alan—angry, hungry, righteous, and working-class (and forced to hide his Italian heritage due to British prejudice)— against Jack, also known as Lord Hawthorn, a peer of both the realm and of the magical world.
The use of multiple POVs is also used in various important ways. We begin the book with Elsie Alston, who sets the stage for the book’s main conflicts, and then the rest of the story flips between the perspectives of Jack and Alan. This allows the romance to develop well, showing the angst and the mutual desire between our two characters—and the barriers keeping them apart. It also allows for unreliable yet sympathetic narrators, culminating in a few plot twists I honestly didn’t see coming, but which nonetheless made complete sense and were handled with care and compassion.
The only element with less of an emphasis than in previous volumes—intentionally—is the constant performance of magic. Since the two main characters are both unable to fully use and practice magic, unlike Edwin from A Marvellous Light and Violet from its first sequel, the focus is more on not only navigating magic but also what it means to have access to it. There are, for example, more scenes that take place in Parliament or in certain domestic houses than in institutions of the magical world, which makes the actual forays into those institutions or buildings that much more exciting. This shift in focus allows the emotional wounds and struggles of our two main characters to shine, and it gives the author full rein to dive into the philosophical themes that undergird the entire series: legacy, access, class, worthiness, sharing versus hoarding, community—all important themes that resonate more now, at the beginning of 2025, even than when this novel was being written.
What does it mean to have had your ability to use and wield magic taken from you without your knowledge? What does it mean no longer to have the ability to use magic at all due to a traumatic event—and thus to have the magical world intrinsically tied with personal devastation? What does it mean actually to practice your responsibility of caretaking magic in general, and the magic of your ancestral home and land in particular? These are some of the questions and themes that many characters struggle with or embody over the course of the book, as the protagonists fight against those who would steal magic from everyone to use instead as they wish. Despite its nonmagical primary characters, then, the worldbuilding and magic system developed throughout books one and two is able, in A Power Unbound, finally to exist almost as its own character.
Marske gives the reader almost everything in this last instalment: heists and disguises and deception, fetes that go wrong, temperamental and slightly dangerous magical houses, and bonding over erotic fiction. She also ensures that her readers see continued character development for the characters from her earlier books: they are still allowed to evolve and change, yet have the chance to demonstrate via their actions and words how much they’ve already grown since their main book. Edwin especially stood out to me, and it was great seeing everyone come into their own during the final big fight toward the end of the book.
That conflict takes place within a context of trauma and PTSD, however. One of the aspects that deepened the themes of the book, and that Marske portrayed well, was Jack’s experiences in the Boer War: they continue to be something he deals with on a daily basis, while not letting himself be defined by them, and the trauma of losing his sister is an important plot point. The characters are not only allowed to be messy and traumatized and angry, though; they’re also allowed to heal and to grow. Seeing Jack realize how far he’s come, and choosing to continue to heal and to lean back into connections and community, was absolutely beautiful. On the other hand, the trauma of poverty and bigotry, and the abuses of power by peers of the realm, that is suffered by Alan Ross aren’t glossed over, even by the novel’s end. The romance with Jack, for example, culminates not in ignoring trauma, but through consent, willingness to trust, and kindness and understanding.
The only aspect of the whole novel I personally found a little inconsistent was Jack’s use of a cane as a mobility device. While the narrative certainly highlights his occasional need for it, and does a mostly good job of balancing his recovery via physiotherapy with lingering pain, I felt that there were places where it was treated more as an affectation. There were a few scenes that seemed to imply that not only did he not actually need it, but his leg injury was almost fully recovered due to the power of physiotherapy and sheer will. That said, the main climactic scene at the end hinges on the consequences of Jack’s leg acting up while being deprived of his cane, so I can say that the narrative felt overall respectful.
Many of the obstacles facing our characters aren’t resolved, in fact, because the wider world of Edwardian England doesn’t change. Even the actual impacts and consequences of magic being different by the trilogy’s end aren’t shown on page. Instead, the series decides to close by focusing on the main characters, who are much happier and fulfilled and no longer alone. While on a plot level I always appreciate a bit more resolution, or at least seeing the impacts of a final fight and a world-changing shift, the ending was emotionally satisfying.
Above all, A Power Unbound is about healing from grief and trauma, the very real impact of poverty and class divides, and the power of community—of people from different walks of life coming together—in creating happiness and a way forward. A Power Unbound is a wonderful way to end a trilogy of magic, adventure, and romance.