I married a dead war hero.
His name was Fire Lieutenant Byric Sandstone—an extremely wealthy Hyrrokin landowner, with a complicated estate.
Obviously, I’m not really his widow. It’s a technicality, on paper so I could bypass immigration and perform my duties. Everyone but the lawyer who forged the signature thinks I’m really Byric’s chosen bound, but my real job is to care for his elderly grandmother and his three-headed wulver. I love my cushy life on Tarvos.
One night, the front door to the mansion bursts open. A disheveled, wild-eyed and monstrous Lieutenant Sandstone returns home, having escaped from his prison cell behind enemy lines.
Wait, my husband isn’t dead?
“Who the hell are you?” he rasps.
“Your bound,” I whimper from underneath the sheets.
Oh no. How is this going to work out?