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

look at each other with

on — another week and we’d

"I’m sorry, child."

priest professes gravely, closing the distance

do this if

anything I’ve ever experienced before, takes over my

instincts are screaming at me to run, to get

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

isn’t anywhere

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

into his palm, but he doesn’t

simply wrenches me away from the door, propelling

my legs, and I’m

screams muffled and garbled as the priest continues

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

and I’m gagging, fighting for air and struggling to focus

them — I’m powerless in their

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

the air,

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

tinged with

"It’s too much."

"Just a little more."

second voice, floating above me,

"We're so close."

where these sounds are coming from, and the priests don’t

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

thrust onto the floor and pinned

my wrists while the other sits on my kicking

a shimmering silk cloth, it’s pearlescent sheen

begin wrapping it around my body, it tightens around me with the unyielding

in the fabric, winding it round and round like a

my arms are locked against my sides and

grip, and soon

over my mouth, the priest finally removes his hand from

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

breathe, though

- my mind is awake but

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

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

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

objects are laid over my body, stones or crystals placed in deliberate

to fight the cocoon, that foreign electricity in my veins warning me that I won't be able to fight much

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

speaking a language

around the small room, carrying arcane power older than