Eleanor was growing tired.

Tired of her griping, lazy grandmother, tired of the endless toil as a maid in the castle, and very, tired of the playboy prince who stole her heart only to stomp it to pieces. She never dreamed of some extraordinary life or extravagant wealth. Eleanor only wanted something easier. Somewhere better. Someone to want her.

When she finally hits her breaking point and goes (just a little) mad, she decides that someone is the bellowing dragon of the Winter Wilds. Dragon brides were rumored all over Brula. Why wasn't she fit to be one, too?

Viggo called for his mate for years, so many years that he'd begun to believe he imagined her. Until she arrived on his doorstep, half frozen and offering herself up as a bride. After years of isolation in the wilds with no one to answer to but himself, he wasn't as suited for a mate as he believed. Could he domesticate himself enough to woo his impetuous bride? Or would she march back into the Wilds in search of better prospects?