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.

I hiss, my body

men look at each

another

"I’m sorry, child."

gravely,

would not do this if there

I’ve ever experienced before, takes over

at me to run, to

far worse than anything the doctor or dormitory matron have ever

isn’t

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

teeth into his palm,

simply wrenches me away from the door, propelling me further

first man grabs my legs, and

muffled and garbled as the priest continues to smother

mouth, the metallic tang fanning the flames in my already

gagging, fighting for

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

the wind for all the effort they expend to contain

distant keening pierces the

thick with grief and pain more

deep voice, tinged with concern, joins the

"It’s too much."

"Just a little more."

voice, floating

"We're so close."

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

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

onto the floor

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

shimmering silk cloth, it’s pearlescent sheen glimmering

begin wrapping it around my body, it tightens around

winding it round

my sides and my legs

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

the silk falls over my mouth, the priest finally removes

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

though I

my mind is awake but I’m trapped

to do something - anything! But nothing happens because this isn’t a dream from

the clink of glass? The jostling of beads? novelebook A bottle uncorking? For all

fragrance a moment before drops of moisture seep through the

body, stones or crystals placed in deliberate patterns on my

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

but I refuse to give up

speaking a language I

around the small room, carrying arcane power older than the