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.

away!" I hiss, my body

men look at each other

— another week

"I’m sorry, child."

priest professes gravely, closing the

not do this if there was

ever experienced before, takes over my

screaming at me to

worse than anything the doctor or

isn’t anywhere to

two attackers far larger and stronger than I am bearing down on me.I try to

my teeth into his palm, but he doesn’t

from the door, propelling me

legs, and

hold, my screams muffled

metallic tang fanning the flames

gagging, fighting for air and struggling to focus on my

fight them — I’m powerless in their strong

a feather swaying in the wind for all

pierces the air, sounding very

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

voice, tinged with concern, joins

"It’s too much."

"Just a little more."

second voice, floating

"We're so close."

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

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

thrust onto the floor and

wrists while the other sits on my kicking legs, pulling his

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

they begin wrapping it around my body, it tightens around me with

me in the fabric, winding it round and round like a

locked against my sides and my legs tightly shut,

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

silk falls over my mouth, the priest finally removes

half second of my scream escapes before the moonlight closes over my gaping lips, locking my face into the

able to breathe, though I

nightmares come to life - my mind is awake but I’m trapped in my own

to move, to do something - anything! But nothing happens

can hear the priests rummaging around outside the walls of my silken prison, and I strain to identify the sounds: the clink of glass? The jostling of beads? novelebook A bottle uncorking? For all the fabric’s strength, it does

before drops of moisture seep through the silk and

over my body, stones or crystals placed in deliberate patterns on

my veins warning me that I won't be able

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

then, speaking a

words swirl around the small room, carrying arcane power