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.
wild thing writhes just beneath my skin,
hiss, my body shuddering with these new
men look at each other with
— another week and we’d be
“I’m sorry, child.”
gravely, closing the distance between
not do this if
anything I’ve ever experienced before, takes
are screaming at me to run, to get
that whatever these men intend will be far worse than anything the
isn’t
got a bolted door at my back and two attackers far larger and stronger than I am bearing down
his palm, but
from the door, propelling me
my legs, and I’m lifted off the
muffled
mouth, the metallic tang
gagging, fighting for air and struggling to
know what to do or how to fight them — I’m powerless in their strong grips, and they
feather swaying in the
keening pierces the air, sounding
deeper than my own, thick with grief and pain more complex than the sheer fright in my own panicked
tinged with concern, joins the terrible
“It’s too much.”
“Just a little more.”
second voice, floating above
“We’re so close.”
sounds are coming from,
than a pawn in their game
thrust onto the floor and pinned
on my kicking legs, pulling his tool bag to his
shimmering silk cloth, it’s pearlescent sheen glimmering like moonlight, glowing in the
soft and airy, but when they begin wrapping it around my body, it
enclose me in the fabric, winding it round
sides and my legs tightly shut,
and soon they’re wrapping my head, as if they intend
falls over my mouth, 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
to breathe, though I don’t understand
mind is awake but I’m trapped in my
nerve endings and muscles to move, to do something – anything! But nothing happens because this isn’t a dream from which I can
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
herbaceous fragrance a moment before drops of moisture seep through
stones or crystals placed in deliberate patterns on my head,
cocoon, that foreign electricity in my veins warning me that
out of time, but I refuse to give up hope for
begin to chant then, speaking a language I do
small room, carrying arcane power older than
moment ago, but now blinding light explodes in my vision, blinding
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