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.

away!" I hiss, my body shuddering with

at each other with grim

spot on — another

"I’m sorry, child."

priest professes gravely, closing the distance

would not do this if there was another

anything I’ve ever experienced before, takes over

instincts are screaming at me to run, to

whatever these men intend will be far worse than anything the doctor or dormitory matron have ever

there 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

away from the door, propelling me further into

man grabs my legs, and I’m lifted

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

the metallic tang fanning the flames in my already sour

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

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

be a feather swaying in the wind

pierces the

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

with concern,

"It’s too much."

"Just a little more."

floating above

"We're so close."

sounds are coming from, and the priests

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

onto the

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

it’s pearlescent sheen glimmering

looks soft and airy, but when they begin wrapping it around

me in the fabric, winding it round and round like

my sides and my

grip, and soon they’re wrapping my head, as if they

my mouth, the priest finally

second of my scream escapes before the moonlight closes over my gaping lips, locking my face into the contours of a silent

though I don’t understand

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

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

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 bottle uncorking? For all the fabric’s strength, it does not stop me from feeling

a moment before drops of moisture seep

or crystals placed in deliberate

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

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

priests begin to chant then, speaking a language I do not

around the small room, carrying arcane