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

look at each other

on — another week and we’d

"I’m sorry, child."

first priest professes gravely, closing the distance between

this if

anything I’ve ever

me to run, to

worse than

there isn’t

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

into his palm, but he doesn’t

wrenches me away from the

grabs my legs,

their hold, my screams muffled and garbled as the priest

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

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

— I’m powerless in

might as well be a feather swaying in the wind for all the

keening pierces the air,

and pain more complex than the sheer fright in my

deep voice, tinged with concern, joins the

"It’s too much."

"Just a little more."

second voice, floating above me,

"We're so close."

from, and the priests don’t seem to hear

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

onto the

on my kicking

silk cloth, it’s pearlescent sheen

when they begin wrapping it around my

enclose me in the fabric, winding it round and round

my sides and

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

before the silk falls over my mouth, the priest finally removes

before the moonlight closes over my gaping lips, locking my face into

to breathe, though I

- my mind is awake but I’m trapped in my own body, unable to

only lie there motionless, my brain 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 wake, this is real, and

hear the priests rummaging around outside the walls of my silken prison, and I strain to identify the sounds: the clink of glass? The

before drops of moisture seep through the silk and onto my

over my body, stones or crystals placed

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

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

priests begin to chant then, speaking

carrying arcane power older than the