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 shuddering with these new

each other with grim

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

"I’m sorry, child."

first priest professes gravely, closing the distance

not do this

I’ve ever experienced before, takes over my

screaming at me to run, to get

these men intend will be far worse than anything

there isn’t

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

teeth into his palm, but

away from the door, propelling me further into

man grabs my legs,

my screams muffled

metallic tang

gagging, fighting for air and

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

the wind for all the effort they

distant keening pierces the air, sounding very

are deeper than my own, thick with grief and pain more complex than the sheer fright in my own panicked

A deep voice, tinged with concern, joins

"It’s too much."

"Just a little more."

second voice, floating

"We're so close."

are coming from, and the priests

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

onto the floor and pinned

while the other sits on my kicking

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

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

winding it round and

my sides and my legs tightly shut,

muscle in the fabric’s punishing grip, and soon they’re wrapping my head, as if

falls over my mouth, the priest finally removes

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

to breathe, though I

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

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

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

a moment before drops of moisture

crystals placed in deliberate patterns on

that foreign electricity in my veins

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

priests begin to chant then, speaking a language I

room, carrying arcane power older than the