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.

go away!" I hiss, my body shuddering

men look at each other with

spot on — another week and we’d be too

"I’m sorry, child."

professes gravely, closing the distance

do this if

terror, unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before, takes over my

me to run,

men intend will be far worse than anything the doctor or dormitory

there isn’t anywhere to

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

my teeth into his palm, but he doesn’t even

the door, propelling

first man grabs my legs, and I’m lifted off the

their hold, my screams muffled and

tang fanning the flames

rises, and I’m gagging, fighting for air and

I’m powerless in their

the

distant keening pierces the air, sounding very far

pain more

with

"It’s too much."

"Just a little more."

voice, floating above

"We're so close."

idea where these sounds are coming from, and the priests

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

onto the

on my kicking legs, pulling his tool bag to his

a shimmering silk cloth, it’s pearlescent sheen glimmering like moonlight, glowing in the

looks soft and airy, but when they begin wrapping it around my body, it tightens around me

in the fabric, winding it round and round

are locked against my sides and my

and soon they’re

mouth, the priest finally removes his hand

my scream escapes before the moonlight closes over my gaping lips,

breathe, though

nightmares come to life - my mind is awake

and muscles to move, to do something - anything! But nothing happens because this isn’t a dream from which I can

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

pungent, herbaceous fragrance a moment before drops of moisture seep through the silk and onto

stones or crystals placed in deliberate patterns on my head,

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

but I refuse to

then, speaking

carrying arcane power older