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.

my body shuddering with

men look at each other

on — another week and we’d

"I’m sorry, child."

gravely, closing the

not do this if

I’ve ever experienced before, takes over my

are screaming at me to run, to get away at any

tell me that whatever these men intend will be far worse

isn’t

stronger than I am bearing down on me.I try to scream, but the

into his palm, but he doesn’t even

simply wrenches me away from the door, propelling me

grabs my legs, and I’m lifted off

against their hold, my screams muffled and garbled as

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

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

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

feather swaying in the

pierces the air, sounding very

own, thick with grief and pain more complex than

deep voice, tinged with

"It’s too much."

"Just a little more."

floating above

"We're so close."

idea where these sounds are coming from, and the priests don’t seem to hear them at

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

thrust onto the

first priest restrains my wrists while the other sits on

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

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

enclose me in the fabric, winding it round and round like a

are locked against my sides

grip, and soon they’re wrapping my head, as if they intend to mummify

mouth, the priest finally removes his hand from my

the moonlight closes over my gaping lips, locking my

able to breathe, though I

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

there motionless, my brain screaming at my nerve endings and muscles to move, to do something - anything! But nothing happens because

the sounds: the clink of glass? The jostling of

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

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

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

but I refuse to

then, speaking a language I

swirl around the small room, carrying arcane