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.

I hiss, my body shuddering

men look at each other with

was spot on — another week and we’d be too

“I’m sorry, child.”

gravely, closing the distance

would not do this if there was another

ever experienced

screaming at me to run,

intend will be far worse than anything the

isn’t anywhere

bearing down on me.I try to scream, but the second priest clamps his hand over my mouth before the sound

teeth into his palm, but he doesn’t

from the door, propelling

first man grabs my legs, and I’m lifted off the

violently against their hold, my screams muffled and garbled as the priest

blood seeps into my mouth, the metallic tang

fighting for air

don’t know what to do or how to fight them — I’m

might as well be a feather swaying in the wind for

the air, sounding

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

deep voice, tinged with concern,

“It’s too much.”

“Just a little more.”

floating above

“We’re so close.”

sounds are coming from, and

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

thrust onto the floor and

on my kicking legs,

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

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

winding it

sides and my legs tightly

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

over my mouth, the priest finally removes

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

able to breathe, though I don’t

my mind is awake but I’m

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 I strain to identify the sounds: the clink of glass? The jostling of beads? novelebook A bottle uncorking? For all the fabric’s strength, it does not stop me from feeling

some pungent, herbaceous fragrance a moment before drops of moisture seep through

crystals placed in deliberate patterns on my

cocoon, that foreign electricity in my veins warning me that I won’t

but I refuse to give up