The Mystical Attraction of Alpha

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.

go away!” I hiss, my body shuddering

look at each other with

spot on — another week and we’d be

“I’m sorry, child.”

gravely, closing

not do this if there

ever experienced before, takes over

to run,

will be far worse

there isn’t anywhere

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

my teeth into his palm, but he doesn’t even

wrenches me away from the door, propelling me further

man grabs my legs, and I’m lifted

their hold, my screams muffled and

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

gagging, fighting for air and struggling to focus

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

a feather swaying in the wind for all the effort

pierces the air,

grief and pain more complex than the sheer fright in

deep voice, tinged with concern,

“It’s too much.”

“Just a little more.”

voice, floating

“We’re so close.”

from, and the priests don’t seem

than a pawn in their game — tiny and

thrust onto the

the other sits on my kicking legs, pulling

pearlescent sheen glimmering like moonlight, glowing in

begin wrapping it around my body,

in the fabric, winding it round and round like

arms are locked against my sides and my legs tightly shut,

fabric’s punishing grip, and soon they’re wrapping

my mouth, the priest finally removes his

over my gaping lips, locking my face

to breathe, though I

to life – my mind is awake but I’m

– anything! But nothing happens because this isn’t a dream from which I can wake, this

sounds: the clink of glass? The jostling of beads? novelebook A bottle uncorking? For all the fabric’s strength, it does not

a moment before drops of moisture seep through the

placed in deliberate patterns on my head, chest, arms and

the cocoon, that foreign electricity in my veins warning me that I

out of time, but