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

men look at each other

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

"I’m sorry, child."

first priest professes gravely, closing the distance between

not do this if

unlike anything I’ve ever experienced

me to run, to get away at any

whatever these men intend will be far worse than

there isn’t anywhere

attackers far larger and stronger than I am bearing down on me.I try to scream, but the second priest clamps his

sink my teeth into his palm, but he doesn’t even

simply wrenches me away from the door, propelling me further into the

grabs my legs, and I’m lifted off the

hold, my screams muffled and garbled as the priest continues

metallic tang fanning the flames in my already

gagging, fighting for air and struggling to

don’t know what to do or how to fight them — I’m powerless in their

a feather swaying in the wind for all the effort they expend to

keening pierces the

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

tinged with concern, joins the terrible

"It’s too much."

"Just a little more."

voice, floating above

"We're so close."

where these sounds are coming from, and

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

the floor and pinned

sits on my kicking legs, pulling

shimmering silk cloth, it’s pearlescent sheen glimmering like

it around

the fabric, winding it round and round like a

my sides

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

the

scream escapes before the moonlight closes over my gaping lips,

to breathe, though

- my mind is awake

endings and muscles to move, to do something - anything! But

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

moment before drops of moisture seep through the silk

crystals placed in

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

I’m running out of time, but I refuse to

priests begin to chant then, speaking a

small room, carrying arcane power older