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 with these

each other

another week and

"I’m sorry, child."

professes gravely, closing the distance between

would not do this if there was another

I’ve ever experienced

instincts are screaming at me to run, to get away at any

far worse than anything the doctor or dormitory matron have ever inflicted

isn’t

my back and two attackers far larger and stronger than I am bearing down on me.I try

his palm, but he doesn’t even

me away from the door, propelling

legs, and I’m lifted off

screams muffled and garbled as

the metallic tang fanning the

gagging, fighting for air and

I’m powerless in their strong grips, and they seem completely unaffected by

well be a feather swaying in the wind for

keening pierces the air, sounding very far

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

tinged with concern,

"It’s too much."

"Just a little more."

floating above me,

"We're so close."

have no idea where these sounds are coming from, and

with their task with single-minded focus, and i’m nothing more than

onto the

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

cloth, it’s pearlescent sheen glimmering like moonlight,

it around my body, it tightens around me with

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

locked against my sides and my

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

before the silk falls over my mouth, the

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

though I don’t

- my mind is awake

my nerve endings and muscles to move, to do something - anything! But

the sounds: the clink of glass? The jostling of beads? novelebook A bottle uncorking? For all the fabric’s

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

my body, stones or crystals placed in deliberate patterns

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

of time, but I refuse to give up hope

begin to chant then, speaking a

small room, carrying arcane power older