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 with these

at each other with grim

on — another week and we’d be too

"I’m sorry, child."

priest professes gravely, closing

not do this if

anything I’ve ever experienced before, takes

at me to run, to get away at

these men intend will be far worse

isn’t anywhere

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

into his palm, but he doesn’t even

simply wrenches me away from the door, propelling me

my legs, and I’m lifted

thrash violently against their hold, my screams muffled

mouth, the metallic tang fanning the flames in

and I’m gagging, fighting for air and struggling to focus

do or how to fight them — I’m powerless in their strong grips, and they seem completely unaffected by my

feather swaying in the wind for

distant keening pierces the air, sounding very far

are deeper than my own, thick with grief and pain more complex than

deep voice, tinged with

"It’s too much."

"Just a little more."

floating above me,

"We're so close."

where these sounds are coming from,

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

onto the floor

on my kicking legs, pulling his tool bag to his

shimmering silk cloth, it’s pearlescent sheen glimmering

they begin wrapping it around my body, it tightens

it

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

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

my mouth, the

before the moonlight closes over my gaping lips, locking my face into the

to breathe, though I don’t understand

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

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,

walls of my silken prison, and I strain to identify the sounds: the clink of glass? The jostling of beads? novelebook A

pungent, herbaceous fragrance a moment before drops of moisture seep

over my body, stones or crystals placed in deliberate

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

of time, but I refuse to give up

to chant then, speaking a language

swirl around the small room, carrying arcane power older