Surrogate For Alpha Dom

#Chapter 179 — 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.

away!" I hiss, my body

each other with

timing was spot on — another

"I’m sorry, child."

first priest professes gravely,

would not do this if there was another

anything I’ve ever

instincts are screaming at me to

these men intend will be far worse than anything

there isn’t

at my back 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 before the

into his palm,

simply wrenches me away from the

legs, and I’m lifted

muffled and garbled as

seeps into my mouth, the metallic tang fanning the flames in my

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

fight them — I’m powerless in their strong grips, and they seem completely

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

distant keening pierces the

grief and pain more complex

tinged with concern, joins the

"It’s too much."

"Just a little more."

floating above me,

"We're so close."

from, and the priests don’t seem

focus, and i’m nothing more than a pawn in their game —

onto the

other sits on my kicking legs,

pearlescent

it around my body, it tightens around me with the

fabric, winding it round and round like a glittering

are locked against my sides and my legs tightly shut,

and soon they’re

my mouth, the priest finally removes

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

to breathe, though I

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

brain 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 only

and I strain to identify the sounds: the clink of glass? The jostling of beads? novelebook A bottle

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

crystals placed in deliberate patterns on my head, chest,

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

but I

speaking a language I do not

around the small room, carrying arcane power older