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.

my body

look at each other with grim

another week

"I’m sorry, child."

first priest professes gravely, closing the distance

not do this if there

anything I’ve ever experienced

at me to run,

worse than anything the doctor

there isn’t

bolted door at my back and two attackers far larger and stronger than I am bearing down on me.I try to scream, but the second

my teeth into his palm, but he

simply wrenches me away from the door, propelling

grabs my legs,

against their hold, my screams muffled and garbled as the priest continues

the metallic tang fanning the flames in my

I’m gagging, fighting for air and struggling to

fight them — I’m powerless in their strong grips, and they seem

well be a feather swaying in the wind for all

distant keening pierces the air,

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

tinged with

"It’s too much."

"Just a little more."

floating

"We're so close."

coming from, and the priests don’t seem

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

thrust onto the floor and pinned

restrains my wrists while the other sits on my kicking legs, pulling his tool

cloth, it’s pearlescent sheen glimmering like moonlight,

and airy, but when they begin wrapping it around my body, it tightens around me with the unyielding force

winding it round and

sides and my legs tightly shut, I’m

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

the silk falls over my mouth, the priest finally removes his hand from

closes over my gaping lips, locking my face into the

though I don’t

nightmares come to life - my mind is awake

can only lie there motionless, my brain screaming at my nerve endings and muscles to move, to do something - anything! But nothing happens because this isn’t a dream from which I can wake, this is real,

hear the priests 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

a moment before drops of moisture seep through the

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

fight the cocoon, that foreign electricity in my veins warning me that

out of time, but I refuse to give up hope

then, speaking a language

room, carrying arcane power older than