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 new

men look at each

spot on — another

"I’m sorry, child."

professes gravely, closing the distance

would not do this

anything I’ve ever experienced

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

tell me that whatever these men intend will be far worse than anything the

there isn’t

than I am bearing down on me.I try to

into his palm,

the door,

man grabs my legs, and I’m lifted off

thrash violently against their hold, my screams muffled

mouth, the metallic tang fanning the flames

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

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

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

the air, sounding very far

pain more complex than the

with concern, joins the terrible

"It’s too much."

"Just a little more."

floating above me,

"We're so close."

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

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

thrust onto the floor

first priest restrains my wrists while the other sits on my kicking

pearlescent sheen glimmering like moonlight, glowing in the

begin wrapping it around my body, it

enclose me in the fabric, winding it round and round like

my sides and my legs tightly

and soon they’re wrapping my head, as if

mouth, the priest finally removes his hand from my

over my gaping lips, locking my face into the contours of a

to breathe, though

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

something - anything! But nothing happens because this

to identify the sounds: the clink of glass? The

fragrance a moment before drops of moisture seep through the silk and

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

in my veins warning me that I won't be able to fight much

time, but I refuse

speaking a language

words swirl around the small room, carrying arcane power older than