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 shuddering

at each other with grim

on — another week and

"I’m sorry, child."

professes gravely, closing the

this if there was

unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before, takes

instincts are screaming at me to run, to get

these men intend will be far worse than anything

there isn’t anywhere

my back and two attackers far larger and stronger than I am bearing down on me.I try to scream, but the

into his palm, but he doesn’t even

away from the door, propelling me further into the

first man grabs my legs,

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

blood seeps into my mouth, the metallic tang fanning the flames in my already sour

rises, and I’m gagging, fighting for

them — I’m powerless in their strong

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

the

and pain more complex than the sheer fright in my

tinged with

"It’s too much."

"Just a little more."

second voice, floating

"We're so close."

no idea where these sounds are coming from, and the priests don’t seem to hear

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

the floor and

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

extracts a shimmering silk cloth, it’s pearlescent sheen glimmering

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

winding it round and round

against my sides and my legs tightly shut, I’m

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

the priest finally removes

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

though I don’t

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

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

clink of glass? The jostling of beads? novelebook A bottle uncorking? For all the fabric’s strength, it does not stop me from feeling or

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

are laid over my body, stones or crystals placed in deliberate patterns on my head, chest, arms and

fight the cocoon, that foreign electricity in my veins warning me that

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

chant then, speaking a language

around the small room, carrying