If what gripped you was Isolfr’s bond with Viradechtis—the way their minds and loyalties knit together in war and daily life—you’ll love the relationship between Captain Will Laurence and the dragon Temeraire. In His Majesty’s Dragon, Laurence is pulled from a conventional career much like Njall becoming Isolfr, and thrown into the Aerial Corps’ tight-knit, packlike world. The tactics, training flights, and mess-hall camaraderie mirror the wolfheall’s rhythms, while the fierce, nuanced partnership at the story’s heart scratches the same itch as those scenes where Isolfr and Viradechtis move as one in battle against trolls and wyverns.

If you enjoyed seeing Njall refashion himself as Isolfr—earning his place among wolfcarls, learning commands, and navigating rank inside the wolfheall—follow Paksenarrion as she enlists, trains, and fights her way up through a mercenary company. Sheepfarmer’s Daughter revels in drills, chain of command, and campaign realism, echoing those gritty scenes where Isolfr proves himself in winter marches and pitched battles. The satisfaction comes from the same place: competence won under pressure, and the slow accumulation of honor, duty, and authority.

If the political undercurrents hooked you—the jostling between jarls, the way the wolfheall’s customs bind and constrain Isolfr—then Maia’s struggle in The Goblin Emperor will resonate. Thrust onto the throne, he must decode etiquette as perilous as any raid, parry conspiracies, and forge alliances without losing himself. It hits the same pleasure points as watching Isolfr maneuver through Iskryne’s obligations and rivalries, only the knives here are verbal, the battleground a court as intricate as the wolfcarls’ own rituals.

If you loved sinking into Iskryne’s lived-in details—wolfcarls’ oaths, winter rites, and the weight of tradition on Isolfr and Viradechtis—The Priory of the Orange Tree offers that same depth across clashing cultures. You’ll travel from Ead Duryan’s secretive order to Sabran’s rigid court and the dragon-revering East, each with its own lore, festivals, and protocols as tangible as the wolfheall’s. The pleasure is in the texture: food, faith, ceremony, and history braided into every scene, the way Iskryne’s sagas shape its warriors.

If what stayed with you was Isolfr’s transformation—renaming himself, adapting to wolfheall norms, and negotiating intimate bonds that redefine his place—then Swordspoint will strike a chord. Richard St. Vier and Alec navigate love, loyalty, and identity amid duels and political games in Riverside. The way personal ties and desire tangle with status recalls Isolfr balancing Viradechtis, pack expectations, and jarl politics. It’s a character-driven, sensual exploration of who you choose to be inside a demanding society.