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.

go away!" I hiss, my body shuddering with these

men look at each other with grim

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

"I’m sorry, child."

professes gravely, closing the distance

would not do this if there was

terror, unlike anything I’ve ever

screaming at me to run, to get away

me that whatever these men intend will be far worse than anything the doctor

there isn’t

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

his palm, but he doesn’t even

from the door, propelling me further into

grabs my legs, and I’m lifted

violently against their hold, my screams muffled and

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

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

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

be a feather swaying in the wind for all

keening pierces the air, sounding very

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

with concern, joins the

"It’s too much."

"Just a little more."

voice, floating above me,

"We're so close."

sounds are coming from, and the priests

nothing more than a pawn in their game —

the

the other sits on my kicking

a shimmering silk cloth, it’s pearlescent

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

fabric, winding it

arms are locked against my sides and my legs

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

mouth, the priest finally removes his

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

breathe, though I

life - my mind is awake but I’m trapped in my own body, unable to move or

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

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

moment before drops of moisture seep

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

my veins warning me that I won't be able

out of time, but I refuse

speaking a language I do

the small room, carrying arcane power older than the