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

spot on — another week and we’d be too

“I’m sorry, child.”

priest professes gravely,

not do this if there was

anything I’ve ever experienced before, takes

at me to run, to

men intend will be far worse than anything the doctor or dormitory matron have ever inflicted

isn’t anywhere

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

his

the door, propelling me

my legs, and I’m lifted off

their hold, my screams muffled and garbled as the priest continues to

into my mouth, the metallic tang fanning

gagging, fighting for air and struggling to

know what to do or how to fight them — I’m powerless in their strong grips,

well be a feather swaying in the wind for all the effort they expend

the air, sounding

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

voice, tinged with concern, joins

“It’s too much.”

“Just a little more.”

floating above

“We’re so close.”

from, and the priests

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

thrust onto the floor

first priest restrains my wrists while the other sits on

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

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

me in the fabric, winding it round and round like

are locked against my sides and my legs tightly shut,

a muscle in the fabric’s punishing grip, and soon they’re wrapping my head, as if they intend to mummify me

over my mouth, the priest finally removes his

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

though I don’t

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

anything! But nothing happens because this isn’t a dream from

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

moment before drops

over my body, stones or crystals placed

trying to fight the cocoon, that foreign electricity in my veins warning

know I’m running out of time, but I refuse to give up