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

look at each other with grim

spot on — another week and we’d be

"I’m sorry, child."

gravely, closing the

this if there was

anything I’ve ever

to run, to get away

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

isn’t anywhere to

stronger than I am bearing down on me.I try to scream,

his palm, but he

simply wrenches me away from the door, propelling me further

grabs my legs, and I’m

their hold, my screams muffled and garbled as the

mouth, the metallic tang fanning the flames in my already sour

gagging, fighting for air and struggling to focus on

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

the wind

pierces the air, sounding very far

deeper than my own, thick with grief and pain more complex than the sheer fright in my own

with concern, joins the terrible

"It’s too much."

"Just a little more."

second voice, floating above

"We're so close."

no idea where these sounds are coming from, and

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

the floor

sits on my kicking legs,

a shimmering silk cloth, it’s pearlescent sheen glimmering

around my body, it tightens around me with the unyielding force of

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

locked against my sides and my legs tightly

can’t move a muscle in the fabric’s punishing grip, and soon they’re wrapping my

the priest finally removes

my gaping lips, locking my face into the

to breathe, though

nightmares come to life - my mind is awake

move, to do something - anything! But nothing happens because this

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

pungent, herbaceous fragrance a moment before drops of moisture

body, stones or crystals placed in deliberate patterns on my

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

running out of time, but I

then, speaking a

swirl around the small room, carrying arcane power older