Escaping The Chains: The Dragon Duels, #4

By Laura Greenwood

Escaping her life in chains could cost everything. Is it worth the risk?

 

Maribelle entered the Marriage Market for a better life for her and her family, instead, all she got was pain and fear.

 

After a year of marriage to Jacob, she is pushed to the limit, and one wrong move could mean the end of her life once and for all.

 

But Maribelle is no longer alone, and with the support of her new allies, she begins to finally believe she can escape the chains binding her.

 

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Escaping The Chains is a standalone spin-off to the Dragon Duels series, an urban fantasy with a dystopian flare. Escaping The Chains includes themes of domestic abuse (not between love interests), please read with caution.

 

If you like deadly competitions, low-key magic, dystopian settings, dragons, and slow-burn romantic subplots, start the Dragon Duels series today with Stoking The Embers.

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Drowlgon Press
• Release date: Feb 3, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201948450

Laura Greenwood

Laura is a USA Today Bestselling Author of paranormal romance, urban fantasy, and fantasy romance. When she's not writing, she drinks a lot of tea, tries to resist French macarons, and works towards a diploma in Egyptology. She lives in the UK, where most of her books are set. Laura specialises in quick reads, with healthy relationships and consent positive moments regardless of if she's writing light-hearted romance, mythology-heavy urban fantasy, or anything in between. You can find a full book list and more information on her website, or in The Paranormal Council Facebook Group. Happy Reading!

Book preview

Prologue

A year ago...

I'm in the Marriage Market of my own free will, so why am I so nervous about heading towards the auction block? I need to pull it together or I'm going to end up going for a low price.

Which isn't what I need. I'm here so I can help my family with the money I raise. A small amount isn't going to do much to ease their burdens.

I take a deep breath and try to centre myself, following the woman in front of me and not giving any clues to the others around me that I'm falling apart inside. I'm sure there are other people who feel the same way I do, but we're discouraged from talking about it, even between ourselves.

I glance to the side, surprised to see a line of young men all dressed in white making the same journey as we are. I thought the auctions were normally done separately for men and women, but apparently, that's not the situation tonight. Then again, this is the only auction I'm ever likely to see, maybe this is how they always are.

I bunch up the skirt of my thin white dress so I don't drag it along the floor as I make my way up the small set of stairs which appears in front of me. Success in the Marriage Market is all about making a good impression, and a filthy hem isn't going to help with that.

I can almost hear Mum's voice in my head chastising me for risking getting my dress dirty and ruining my chances of going home with someone from the White Towers. And not just because of the amount of money that'll result in being sent home to them, but also because of what it will mean for me. After a life in the soot-covered city, a chance at real luxury is in front of me. Though that's only a perk of my main goal.

I want to make sure my sister gets a better education than I did so that she can work her way up and avoid the same fate as me. I'm not too nervous about what's to come, but I know I want better for Hazel.

The girl in front of me comes to a stop. She can't be older than seventeen, but she's got the poise of someone raised to enter the Marriage Market. It's easy to tell which of the girls have been groomed for this. I'm not sure what that says about my chances of making a good marriage contract.

One by one, the women in front of me are called up to the stage. Nerves flutter in my stomach. They haven't told us much about what's supposed to happen now, and I have no idea what to expect.

Maribelle Evans, the automated voice calls.

I take a shaky breath and check around me, searching for a friendly face. But the organisers are too clever for that. I'm not next to people I know. These women probably came from the other prep centres.

I step forward and make my way onto the stage, trying to fight past the haze of what's happening right now.

Bright lights shine down on me, making it difficult to see what's in front of me. I imagine that's on purpose. While I can't see the elite members of society, I know they're looking at me and trying to work out whether or not I'll make a good wife.

The announcer helps, telling them all about the skills I've worked on while in the prep centre. I'm on autopilot, turning when I'm instructed to and otherwise not saying anything.

I don't understand how they can tell whether I'm going to be a good match for them or not when all I'm doing is standing in front of them in a white dress. Though there was plenty of aptitude and other tests while I was at the centre. The rumour goes that most people who purchase a marriage contract know who they want to walk away with before the auction even starts.

I've never questioned whether or not that makes sense until now. Why should I when the system has worked for so many years?

Maribelle Evans, please leave the stage, the automated voice says.

I do a double-take. I didn't hear any of the bidding, is that normal? Maybe no one wants me.

I swallow my nerves, knowing there's nothing I can do about it even if that's true. I don't even know what happens to people who don't get a successful marriage contract. They don't come back to the prep centre. Or maybe they do but they're kept in another place from the rest of us so they don't influence us with their experience.

I force my legs to move, making my way off the stage and to the door opposite the one I came in through. I'm only guessing that's the way to go, but no one corrects me, so I assume that's a good sign.

Good evening, dear, a matronly woman in a green dress says as I step into a thin corridor.

Hello. My voice shakes, partly due to the lack of use in the past few hours, and partly because of the nerves battering away within me, desperate to make me crazy.

Follow me. We have a marriage contract for you to sign.

My eyes widen. Someone bid on me?

Of course. Only men and women who are ready for the Marriage Market are brought to the auction. If your handler at the prep centre didn't think you were ready, they wouldn't have sent you.

Oh.

She starts walking down the corridor. Well, are you coming? Tardiness isn't going to be tolerated by your new husband.

I hurry after her, still a little in shock over the whole process. But this is what I came here to do, I have to go