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.

my body shuddering with

men look at each other with grim

timing was spot on — another week and we’d be

"I’m sorry, child."

priest professes gravely, closing the distance

not do this

I’ve ever

are screaming at me to run, to get away at any

these men intend will be far worse than anything the doctor or dormitory matron have ever inflicted on

isn’t anywhere to

at my 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 mouth before the

my teeth into his palm,

me away from the door,

legs, and I’m

violently against their hold, my screams muffled and garbled as the priest continues to

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

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

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

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

keening pierces the air,

grief and pain more complex than the sheer fright

A deep voice, tinged with

"It’s too much."

"Just a little more."

voice, floating above

"We're so close."

where these sounds are coming from, and the priests

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

onto the

priest restrains my wrists while the other sits on my kicking legs, pulling

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

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

the fabric, winding it round and round like a glittering

are locked against my sides

grip, and soon they’re wrapping my head, as

mouth, the priest finally removes his

escapes before the moonlight closes over my gaping lips, locking my

breathe, though I

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

something - anything! But nothing happens because this isn’t a dream from which I can wake, this is real, and it’s only the

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 not stop me from feeling or

moment before drops of

or crystals placed in deliberate

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

of time, but

chant then, speaking a

room, carrying arcane power older