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

each other

— another week and

"I’m sorry, child."

gravely, closing the distance between

not do this if

ever experienced

screaming at me to run,

whatever these men intend will be far worse than anything the doctor or dormitory matron have

there isn’t anywhere to

stronger than I am bearing down on me.I try to scream, but the second

his palm, but

me away from the

first man grabs my legs, and I’m

muffled and garbled as the priest continues to

seeps into my mouth, the metallic tang fanning the flames in my already sour

fighting for air and struggling

know what to do or how to fight them — I’m

in the wind for all

keening pierces the air,

pain more complex than the sheer

with

"It’s too much."

"Just a little more."

second voice, floating

"We're so close."

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

i’m nothing more than a pawn in their game — tiny and helpless to

onto the floor

priest restrains my wrists while the other sits on my kicking

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

looks soft and airy, but when they begin wrapping it around my body, it tightens around

in the fabric, winding it round and round

locked against my sides and

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

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 contours

able to breathe, though

nightmares come to life - my mind is awake

only lie there motionless, my brain screaming at my nerve endings and muscles to move, to do something - anything! But nothing happens because this isn’t a dream from which I can wake, this is real, and it’s only the

I strain to identify the sounds: the clink of glass? The jostling of

moment before drops of moisture

my body, stones or crystals placed in

my veins warning

I know I’m running out of time, but I refuse

begin to chant then, speaking a language I

carrying arcane power