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.

my body shuddering with these new

look at each

on — another week and we’d be

“I’m sorry, child.”

gravely,

this if there was

anything I’ve ever experienced before,

screaming at me to run, to get away at any

far worse than anything the doctor or dormitory matron have

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 hand

into his palm,

me away from the door, propelling me further

grabs my legs, and I’m lifted off the

against their hold, my screams muffled and garbled as the

mouth, the metallic tang fanning the

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

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

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

keening pierces the air, sounding

than my own, thick with grief and pain more complex

A deep voice, tinged 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 don’t seem to hear them at

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

thrust onto the floor and pinned

first priest restrains my wrists while the other sits on my

shimmering silk cloth, it’s pearlescent sheen

wrapping it around my body, it

winding it round and

locked against my sides and my legs tightly shut, I’m completely

soon

before the silk falls over my mouth, the priest finally removes his hand from my

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

breathe, though

my nightmares come to life – my mind is awake but I’m trapped in my own

anything!

can hear the priests rummaging around outside the walls of my silken prison, and I strain to identify the 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

crystals placed in deliberate patterns

still desperately trying to fight the cocoon, that foreign electricity in my veins warning me that I won’t be

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