There are few fairy tales as beloved—or as frequently retold—as Beauty and the Beast. It’s a story that seems to have endless room for reinterpretation: the enchanted castle, the cursed prince, the girl with a stubborn streak and a good heart. It’s a framework that practically begs for a retelling, especially in fantasy romance, where magic and morality often dance hand in hand.
Elizabeth Helen’s Bonded by Thorns, the first in The Beasts of the Briar series, doesn’t just reimagine that tale—it multiplies it. One beauty, five beasts, and a castle brimming with secrets. It’s Beauty and the Beast turned up several notches on the fantasy (and spice) scale.
If that sounds like your cup of enchanted tea, you’re in for a fun, occasionally frustrating, and definitely steamy journey through familiar tropes and fresh dynamics.
Rosalina O’Connell doesn’t set out to become the guest—er, captive—of a cursed fae prince. But when a desperate act of kindness lands her inside the enchanted castle with an encroaching briar of thorns, she discovers that there isn’t just one beastly prince, but five: Keldarion (High Prince of Winter), Farron (High Prince of Autumn), Ezryn (High Prince of Spring), Dayton (High Prince of Summer), and Caspian (the Prince of Thorns). Four are cursed to spend their nights as wolves (except on a full moon), and one is the dark phantom that taunts them all. Each is broken in his own way. Each is bound by thorns to the magic that keeps their world—and their curse—alive.
As the story unfolds, Rosalina finds herself drawn to each prince for different reasons: Keldarion’s brooding, Farron’s intelligence and curiosity, which matches her own, Ezryn’s strength and mysterious nature, Dayton’s unbridled charisma, and Caspian’s electric darkness. The reverse harem setup means the romance doesn’t hinge on one pairing—it’s a slow unfurling of trust, affection, and attraction across multiple relationships.
While this setup could easily veer into chaos, Elizabeth Helen structures the narrative with rotating points of view that keep everyone’s motives and emotions in play. Each chapter shifts perspective, offering readers a glimpse into the hearts (and occasionally tortured minds) of the castle’s primary residents. It’s a storytelling choice that gives the book surprising emotional texture—even when the plot feels like déjà vu.
Let’s be honest: when you pick up a Beauty and the Beast retelling, you expect echoes of the original tale. That’s part of the fun—the comfort of recognition mixed with the excitement of reinvention. But Bonded by Thorns doesn’t just echo; sometimes it repeats.
There were moments I wanted to gently take Elizabeth Helen by the shoulders and say, “We get it—it’s Beauty and the Beast.” From the phrasing (“tale as old as time” makes an appearance) to enchanted castle staff, needing to find true love to break the curse and chauvinistic wannabe fiance, the reminders pile up like rose petals. I went in loving the inspiration—but at times, I felt like Elizabeth Helen was waving the VHS cover in my face.
It’s a tricky balance for retellings. The best ones, weave familiar threads into something that feels new. Helen’s version leans heavily on nostalgia, and while that works for readers who want the Disney nods, it occasionally undercuts the story’s originality.
That said, the worldbuilding beyond the castle—the Briar Court, fae politics, magic systems, and curses—shows promise. You can feel Helen laying the groundwork for something bigger. With four books, a prequel, and a fifth on the way in 2026, the series clearly intends to expand well past its fairy-tale roots.
One of the highlights of Bonded by Thorns is its rotating POV structure. Each chapter gives voice to a different character, allowing readers to step into multiple minds—something that’s particularly important in a reverse harem romance where the emotional stakes are spread across several relationships.
Elizabeth Helen handles this juggling act surprisingly well. Each prince has a distinct voice, and even when you’re listening to the audiobook (which, by the way, features just one male narrator for all the princes or the female narrator when we’re in Rosalina’s POV), you can tell who’s speaking. That’s a testament to character differentiation—a writing skill that’s often harder to master than lush prose or witty banter.
Rosalina herself is a bit of a mixed bag. She’s compassionate and courageous, yes, but at times she falls into the “too good for her own good” archetype—a bit more Belle than fully fleshed-out heroine. Still, her interactions with each prince bring out different shades of her character: her sharpness with Keldarion, her unrestrained intellect with Farron, her soft curiosity with Ezryn, her playfulness with Dayton, and her fearlessness with Caspian.
The prose style is clean and readable, leaning more toward modern fantasy romance than classic fairy-tale lyricism. The strength of Elizabeth Helen lies in pacing—knowing how to end a chapter with emotional tension or a teasing line that keeps you saying “one more chapter” like it’s a magical compulsion.
Let’s talk spice, because Bonded by Thorns sits squarely in the adult fantasy romance category. That said, this first book is on the milder side. The sensual tension is there—the yearning, the stolen touches, the near-confessions—but Elizabeth Helen keeps most of the truly explicit scenes for later books (Woven by Gold and beyond).
Think of Bonded by Thorns as foreplay for the series—emotional, romantic, and filled with longing. By book three, things reportedly heat up considerably, but here, the relationships are more about establishing emotional bonds than physical ones. That makes the early installment an easy entry point for readers curious about reverse harem fantasy but hesitant about diving into something overly erotic.
At its heart, the book begins a character-centered journey that explores themes of healing, trust, and chosen love. The curse isn’t just a plot device; it’s a metaphor for emotional damage, guilt, and the inability to let go of the past. Each prince represents a different kind of wound: Keldarion’s distrust from a broken heart, Farron’s guilt, Ezryn’s iron-clad restraint, Dayton’s performative happiness and laissez-faire shell, and Caspian’s self-loathing.
Rosalina becomes the catalyst, not just for their salvation, but for their emotional reckoning. That’s part of what makes the “multiple beasts” angle so compelling—it’s not just about taming one monster, but understanding that everyone carries their own version of the curse.
For readers who love emotional slow burns and morally gray characters, this setup delivers. It’s not subtle, but it doesn’t need to be. This is a series that knows its audience: readers who want romance, magic, and enough angst to fill a cauldron.
If you’re a writer (and let’s face it, many Once Upon a Manuscript readers are), Helen’s debut offers several interesting takeaways about retelling structure and reader expectation.
Did Bonded by Thorns annoy me at times? Absolutely. I rolled my eyes more than once at the heavy-handed nods to Beauty and the Beast. But I also found myself smiling at the banter, admiring the emotional depth of the princes, and appreciating Elizabeth Helen’s ability to make a crowded cast feel cohesive.
This book feels like the author’s love letter to one of the most enduring fairy tales ever told—a little messy, a little indulgent, but full of heart. If you’re looking for a fantasy romance that doesn’t take itself too seriously, offers multiple romantic arcs, and sets the stage for a much spicier series to come, Bonded by Thorns is worth adding to your TBR.
Just be prepared: the magic isn’t entirely new, but the thorns are sharp enough to keep you hooked.