Alpha Dom and His Human Surrogate

Chapter 175 — 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.

my body shuddering with these new

men look at each other with grim

spot on — another

“I’m sorry, child.”

professes gravely, closing the

do this

anything I’ve ever experienced before, takes

instincts are screaming at me to run, to get

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

isn’t

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

teeth into his palm, but

away from the door, propelling

grabs my legs, and I’m lifted off the

against their hold, my screams muffled and garbled as

tang fanning the flames in my

rises, and I’m gagging, fighting for air

— I’m powerless

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

the

are deeper than my own, thick with grief and pain more complex than the

deep voice, tinged with

“It’s too much.”

“Just a little more.”

voice, floating above me,

“We’re so close.”

are coming from, and the priests

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

onto the floor and

on my kicking legs, pulling his tool bag

it’s pearlescent sheen glimmering like

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

in the fabric, winding it round and

sides and my legs tightly

in the fabric’s punishing grip, and soon

my mouth, the priest finally

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

breathe, though I don’t understand

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

lie there motionless, my brain screaming at my nerve endings and muscles to move, to do something – anything! But nothing

and I strain to identify the sounds: the clink of glass? The jostling of

moment before drops of moisture seep through

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

electricity in my veins warning me that I won’t be able to fight much

running out of time, but I refuse to give up