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.

a bolt of electricity, a wild thing writhes just beneath my skin, feral and rabid — begging to

I hiss, my body shuddering with

look at each other with

another week and we’d

“I’m sorry, child.”

priest professes gravely, closing

would not do this if there was

terror, unlike anything I’ve ever

me to run, to get away

men intend will be far worse than

isn’t

am bearing down on me.I try to scream, but the second priest clamps his

my teeth into his palm,

simply wrenches me away from the door, propelling me further into

man grabs my legs, and I’m lifted off

their hold, my screams muffled

the metallic tang fanning the flames in my already sour

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

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

feather swaying in the wind for all

the air, sounding

and pain more complex than the

voice, tinged with concern,

“It’s too much.”

“Just a little more.”

voice, floating above

“We’re so close.”

have no idea where these sounds are coming from, and the priests don’t seem to hear them

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

onto the floor and

other sits on my kicking legs, pulling his tool bag to

cloth, it’s pearlescent sheen glimmering like moonlight, glowing in the

it around my

fabric, winding it

my sides and my legs tightly shut, I’m

can’t move a muscle in the fabric’s punishing grip, and soon they’re wrapping my

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

half second of my scream escapes before the moonlight closes over my gaping lips, locking my face into the contours

though I don’t understand

to life – my mind is awake but I’m trapped

move, to do something – anything! But nothing

strain to identify the sounds: the clink of glass? The

moment before drops of moisture seep through

stones or crystals placed in deliberate patterns on

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

I know I’m running out of time, but I refuse

begin to chant then, speaking a language I do

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