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 with

men look at each other

on — another week and we’d be

“I’m sorry, child.”

first priest professes gravely, closing the

this if there

I’ve ever experienced before, takes over my

are screaming at me to run, to get away

men intend will be far worse than anything the doctor or

isn’t anywhere

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

his palm,

me away from the door, propelling me further into

first man grabs my legs, and I’m lifted

violently against their hold, my screams muffled

metallic tang fanning the flames in my already

rises, and I’m gagging, fighting for air and

fight them — I’m powerless in their strong

the wind for all the effort they expend to contain

pierces the air, sounding very

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

tinged with concern, joins the

“It’s too much.”

“Just a little more.”

second voice, floating above me,

“We’re so close.”

are coming from, and the priests don’t seem

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

onto the floor and pinned

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

it’s pearlescent sheen glimmering

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

winding it round and round like a glittering

my arms are locked against my sides and my legs tightly

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

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

over my gaping lips, locking my face

though

mind is awake

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

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

herbaceous fragrance a moment before drops

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

electricity in my veins

out of time, but I refuse to