Alpha Dom and His Human Surrogate by Caroline Above Story

Accidental Surrogate for Alpha by Caroline Above Story Chapter 175

#Chapter 175 — Bound Trigger warning — Assault (non-S**ual)

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.

through me like a bolt of electricity, a wild thing writhes just beneath my skin, feral and rabid —

my body shuddering with these

men look at each other with

— another

“I’m sorry, child.”

professes gravely,

this if there

ever experienced before, takes

to run, to get away at any

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

isn’t anywhere

and two attackers far larger and stronger than I am bearing down on

sink my teeth into his

from the door, propelling me

grabs my legs, and I’m

their hold, my screams muffled and garbled as the priest

the metallic tang fanning the flames in my already sour

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

— I’m powerless in

might as well be a feather swaying in the

keening pierces the air, sounding

cries are deeper than my own, thick with grief and pain more complex than the sheer fright in my

tinged with concern, joins

“It’s too much.”

“Just a little more.”

voice, floating

“We’re so close.”

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

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

thrust onto the

restrains my wrists while the other sits on

a shimmering silk cloth, it’s pearlescent sheen

looks soft and airy, but when they begin wrapping it around my body, it tightens

in the fabric, winding it round and round like

sides and my legs tightly shut,

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

the priest finally removes his hand from

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

breathe, though I don’t

my mind is awake but I’m trapped in

motionless, my brain screaming at my nerve endings and muscles to move, to do something – anything! But nothing happens because this isn’t

can hear the priests rummaging around outside the walls of my silken prison, and I strain to identify the sounds: the clink of gla*s? The jostling of beads? novelebook A bottle uncorking? For all the fabric’s strength, it does not stop me

some pungent, herbaceous fragrance a moment before drops of moisture

or crystals placed in deliberate patterns on my head,

that foreign electricity in my veins warning me that

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

then, speaking

small room, carrying arcane power older than

only darkness a moment ago, but now blinding light explodes in my vision, blinding me – but I can’t close