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.

hiss, my body shuddering

men look at each other

was spot on — another week and we’d

"I’m sorry, child."

priest professes gravely,

do this if

ever experienced before, takes

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

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

isn’t

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

sink my teeth into his palm,

me away from the door, propelling me further into

first man grabs my legs, and I’m lifted off

my screams muffled

metallic tang fanning the flames in my

fighting for air and struggling to focus on

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

feather swaying in the wind for

the air, sounding very

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

tinged with concern, joins the

"It’s too much."

"Just a little more."

voice, floating above me,

"We're so close."

idea where these sounds are coming from, and the priests don’t seem

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

onto the floor and

sits on my kicking legs, pulling

cloth, it’s pearlescent

begin wrapping it around my body,

winding it round and round

sides and my

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

mouth, the priest finally removes his hand from my

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

though I don’t understand

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

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

walls of my silken prison, and I strain to identify the sounds: the clink of glass?

filled with some pungent, herbaceous fragrance a moment before drops of

body, stones or crystals placed in deliberate patterns on

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

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

to chant then, speaking a

around the small room, carrying arcane power older than the