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

men look at each other with

was spot on — another week and we’d

"I’m sorry, child."

first priest professes gravely, closing the

would not do this if there was

terror, unlike anything I’ve ever experienced

are screaming at me to

intend will be far worse than anything the doctor or

isn’t

than I am bearing down on me.I

sink my teeth into his palm, but

me away from the door, propelling

man grabs my legs, and I’m lifted

muffled and garbled as the priest

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

I’m gagging, fighting for air and struggling to

to do or how to fight them — I’m powerless in their

feather swaying in the wind

the

with grief and pain more complex than the sheer

A deep voice, tinged with concern, joins the terrible

"It’s too much."

"Just a little more."

second voice, floating

"We're so close."

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

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

the floor and pinned

sits on my kicking legs, pulling his tool bag

extracts a shimmering silk cloth, it’s pearlescent sheen

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

me in the fabric, winding it round and round like

arms are locked against my sides and my legs tightly shut, I’m

soon they’re wrapping my head, as if they intend to

silk falls over my mouth, the priest

second of my scream escapes before the moonlight closes over my gaping lips, locking my face into the contours of

able to breathe, though I don’t

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

do something - anything! But nothing

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 A

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

body, stones or crystals placed in deliberate patterns on my

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

running out of time, but I refuse to give up

speaking a language

room, carrying arcane