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 with these

each other

another

"I’m sorry, child."

priest professes gravely,

would not do this

I’ve ever experienced before, takes

instincts are screaming at me to run, to get away

will be far worse than anything the

there isn’t anywhere

than I am bearing down on me.I

his palm, but he

wrenches me away from the door,

legs, and I’m lifted off

my screams muffled and garbled

tang fanning the flames in

and I’m gagging, fighting for

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

the wind for all the effort they

keening pierces the

with grief and pain more complex than the sheer fright in my own panicked

with

"It’s too much."

"Just a little more."

second voice, floating

"We're so close."

are coming from, and

and i’m nothing more than

the floor and pinned

other sits on my

pearlescent

begin wrapping it around my body, it tightens around me with the unyielding force of

it round and round like

arms are locked against my sides and my legs tightly shut,

muscle in the fabric’s punishing grip, and soon they’re

over my mouth, the priest

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

though I don’t

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

to move, to do something - anything! But nothing happens because this isn’t a dream from which I can wake, this is real, and

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

filled with some pungent, herbaceous fragrance a moment before drops of moisture seep through the silk and onto my

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

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

but I refuse to give up hope

priests begin to chant then, speaking a language I do

carrying arcane power older than the