Accidental Surrogate for Alpha by Caroline Above Story Chapter 176

#Chapter 176 — 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.

like a bolt of electricity, a wild thing writhes just beneath my skin,

my body shuddering with

at each other with

another week and we’d

“I’m sorry, child.”

priest professes gravely, closing the distance between

not do this

terror, unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before, takes over

screaming at me to run, to get away

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

there isn’t

back and two attackers far larger and stronger than I am bearing down on me.I try to scream, but the second

sink my teeth into his palm, but

from the door, propelling

legs, and I’m

my screams muffled and garbled as the priest continues to

metallic tang fanning the flames in my already

gorge rises, and I’m gagging, fighting for

them — I’m powerless

in the wind for all the effort

keening pierces the air, sounding very

thick with grief and pain more

tinged with

“It’s too much.”

“Just a little more.”

floating above me,

“We’re so close.”

no idea where these sounds are coming from, and the

more than a pawn in their game — tiny and

onto the

other sits on

pearlescent sheen glimmering like moonlight, glowing in the

around

fabric, winding it round

locked against my sides and my legs tightly

the fabric’s punishing grip, and soon they’re wrapping my head, as if they intend to mummify me

silk falls over my mouth, the priest finally

over my gaping lips, locking my face into the

breathe, though I don’t

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

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

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?

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

or crystals placed in deliberate patterns on my

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

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

priests begin to chant then, speaking a language I

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