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.

I hiss, my

at each

on — another week and

"I’m sorry, child."

priest professes gravely,

this if there was

terror, unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before, takes over

instincts are screaming at me to run, to get away

will be far worse

isn’t anywhere to

I am bearing down on me.I try to scream, but the second priest clamps his hand over my mouth before the sound can

sink my teeth into his palm, but he doesn’t even

from the door, propelling me further into the

my legs, and I’m

their hold, my screams muffled and garbled

the metallic tang fanning the flames in my

I’m gagging, fighting for air and struggling

fight them — I’m powerless in their strong grips, and

swaying in the

the air,

thick with grief and pain more

deep voice, tinged with concern, joins the terrible

"It’s too much."

"Just a little more."

floating above

"We're so close."

no idea where these sounds are coming from, and the priests don’t seem to hear them

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

the floor and

the other sits on

extracts a shimmering silk cloth, it’s pearlescent sheen glimmering like moonlight,

airy, but when they begin wrapping it around my body,

enclose me in the fabric, winding it round and round

are locked against my sides and my legs

and soon

falls over my mouth, the priest finally removes

moonlight closes over my gaping lips, locking my face into the contours of

able to breathe, though

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

brain screaming at my nerve endings and muscles to move, to do something - anything! But nothing happens because

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

nose is filled with some pungent, herbaceous fragrance a moment before drops of moisture seep through the silk

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

desperately trying to fight the cocoon, that foreign electricity in my veins warning me that I won't be able

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

begin to chant then, speaking a language I do not

small room, carrying arcane power