Accidental Surrogate

#Chapter 179 — Bound Trigger warning — Assault (non-sexual)

Ella

"It’s all right, Ella."

The first priest says, approaching me as one might a skittish horse — with slow, measured movements and hands exposed to show he holds no weapon.

"We only want to protect you."

"Protect me from what?" I question shakily, my back flush against the locked door.

"You have a very powerful magic inside you, and if it's allowed to come out you’ll be exposed.We can’t let that happen." He explains, using a tone much too gentle to be trustworthy.

It’s as though he’s trying to trick me, to convince me he’s kind when he truly intends malice.

"I don’t have any magic." I insist, wishing that I did.

Maybe if I was magic I might be able to put a stop to the things happening here — to protect the others without bringing harm to myself.I was so preoccupied with this statement that I almost missed the second piece of information.

"Exposed to what?"

"You do, it just hasn't shown itself yet."

The second priest sighs, keeping his distance but watching me with sharp eyes.

"At least not in ways you understand.Tell me, have you never noticed how much stronger you are than your peers? That you can hear and smell things from much greater distances? That you can run faster, jump higher, suffer greater injuries with less pain?"

He inquires, his hawkish gaze searing into me, "do they not follow you? Gravitate to your side and obey you as a leader?"

My head spins, making me dizzy with the possibilities.He guesses correctly, but that can’t be because I have some sort of special power.It's just the way things are...isn’t it? "And exposed to a world you cannot yet join."

The first man adds.

"It must happen when the time is right - but that time is a very long way off."

"I don’t understand."

I squeak, a sense of pure dread settling in the pit of my stomach.

"We know, Ella."

The second man proclaims, "And I’m sorry that this must happen, it will not be pleasant, but it is necessary for the future of our people."I shake my head, fighting back tears.

Their words are triggering every alarm bell in my young mind.I know what men do to little girls under the guise of necessity, the pretense of helping or protecting.

And I know exactly how unpleasant things can get.

My blood runs cold, and my pulse races, triggering a strange new energy deep in my bones.

It pulses through me like a bolt of electricity, a wild thing writhes just beneath my skin, feral and rabid — begging to be free.

go away!" I hiss, my body shuddering

each other with

spot on — another

"I’m sorry, child."

professes gravely, closing

not do this if there was

I’ve ever experienced before,

instincts are screaming at me to run, to

me that whatever these men intend will be far worse

there isn’t anywhere

back and two attackers far larger and stronger than I am bearing down on me.I try to scream, but the second priest clamps his hand over my

my teeth into his palm, but he doesn’t

away from the door,

first man grabs my legs,

thrash violently against their hold, my screams muffled

mouth, the metallic tang fanning the flames in my already

gorge rises, and I’m gagging, fighting for air and struggling to focus

them — I’m powerless in their strong grips, and they seem completely unaffected by my

as well be a feather swaying in the wind for all the effort they expend to contain

keening pierces the air, sounding

own, thick with grief and pain more complex than the sheer

A deep voice, tinged with concern, joins

"It’s too much."

"Just a little more."

second voice, floating above

"We're so close."

are coming from, and the priests don’t seem to hear them

with their task with single-minded focus, and i’m nothing more than a pawn in their game — tiny and helpless to

thrust onto the floor and pinned

sits on

cloth, it’s pearlescent sheen glimmering like moonlight, glowing

it around my body,

enclose me in the fabric, winding it round

are locked against my sides and my legs tightly

fabric’s punishing grip, and soon they’re wrapping my head, as if they intend

before the silk falls over my mouth, the priest finally removes his

before the moonlight closes over my gaping lips, locking

able to breathe, though

mind is awake but

endings and muscles to move, to do something - anything! But

outside the walls of my silken prison, and I strain to identify the sounds: the clink of

fragrance a moment before drops of moisture seep

crystals placed in deliberate patterns on my head, chest, arms and

electricity in my veins warning me that I won't be

I know I’m running out of time, but I refuse to give up hope for

begin to chant then, speaking

the small room, carrying arcane power older