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.

hiss, my body shuddering

each other with grim

— another

“I’m sorry, child.”

gravely, closing the distance

do this if there

terror, unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before, takes

at me to run,

far worse

there isn’t anywhere

and two attackers far larger and stronger than I am bearing down on me.I try to scream, but the second priest clamps his hand over my mouth

his palm, but

me away from the door, propelling me further into

grabs my legs, and

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

metallic tang fanning the

for

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

in the wind for all the effort they expend to

the air, sounding very

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

voice, tinged with concern, joins

“It’s too much.”

“Just a little more.”

second voice, floating above

“We’re so close.”

idea where these sounds are coming from, and the priests don’t seem to

more than a pawn in their

the floor and pinned

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

a shimmering silk cloth, it’s pearlescent sheen glimmering like moonlight, glowing

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

me in the fabric, winding it round and round

my sides and my legs tightly shut,

a muscle in the fabric’s punishing grip, and soon they’re wrapping my

silk falls over my mouth, the priest finally removes his hand from

escapes before the moonlight closes over my gaping lips, locking my face into the contours of a silent

to breathe, though I don’t understand

of my nightmares come to life – my mind is awake but I’m trapped in my own body, unable

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 it’s

the walls of my silken prison, and I strain to identify the sounds: the clink of glass? The jostling of beads? novelebook A bottle

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

laid over my body, stones or crystals placed in deliberate

still desperately trying to fight the cocoon, that foreign electricity in my veins warning me that I won’t

out of time, but I refuse to give up