Page 3 of Knot My Wonderland, Part Two (Fairytale Omegaverse #2)

Chapter

Three

ALICE

I held her gaze, searching for any flicker of humanity behind the cold calculation. "Your idea of magnificence and mine are very different."

"For now," she agreed, taking another sip from her glass. The liquid left a faint stain on her lips, like blood that refused to be wiped away. "But perspectives change when one's circumstances do."

She set down her glass with deliberate precision, studying me with renewed intensity. "Drink," she commanded, her voice carrying that Alpha resonance that made the collar at my throat pulse in warning. "The first step in our journey together requires your cooperation.”

I remained motionless, my hands still folded in my lap.

Through our weakened bond, I felt Heart's consciousness flicker—a brief surge of determination that strengthened the golden thread between us for just a moment.

The sensation gave me courage to resist despite the pressure building in my chest from the Alpha command.

“I said drink,” she commanded.The word cracked through the air like a whip. Not loud. Not cruel. Just full of power —a command shaped by centuries of ruling and remaking this twisted version of Wonderland to fit her grief-warped image.

The collar at my throat pulsed sharply in response, a warning jolt that snapped along my spine like cold lightning. I felt it in my bones, in my blood. Every instinct screamed to obey.

But I didn’t move.

My fingers remained woven tightly in my lap, nails biting into the tender skin of my palms. My legs were tense beneath the silk, every muscle primed like I might bolt from the chair, but I stayed still.

Not because I lacked fear. But because of it.

Because if I let her win now, she'd never stop taking pieces of me until I was nothing but a vessel for her lost legacy.

“You’re not my Alpha,” I said. Slowly. Deliberately. Each word tasted like defiance.

The collar pulsed again—this time sharper, more urgent, as if punishing me for my insubordination. A flash of silver and gold flickered under my skin in response, the innate pattern woven through my body shuddering like it recognized the threat and wanted to rise.

Her brows lifted faintly at my resistance, and then she laughed—not a mocking sound, but something quieter. Darker. Like someone reading the final line of a tragic play they’ve already seen a hundred times before.

"No I’m not….but I don’t need to be to make you do things Omega.

" she whispered, with the calm of someone who knew she would win in the end. She didn’t shout.

Didn’t rage. That would’ve been easier. No, she just watched me.

Let the silence stretch like a noose between us, the tension drawing tighter with each beat of my heart.

And then she smiled. Not the regal smirk from the throne room.

Not the false motherly warmth. But something more dangerous. More satisfied.

"You really do remind me of her,” she said quietly, tapping a single finger along the rim of her glass. The motion sent it humming—high and sharp, the note skittering along my nerves like a needle dragged across bone. “My daughter. Before Wonderland devoured her. Before the rot set in.”

I forced myself to meet her gaze, even as that flicker of something behind her words—real grief, perhaps—stirred an ache deep in my chest. But I refused to let it grow.

“I’m not here to fill her shoes,” I said, repeating what I had told her already. “I’m not your heir, or your tool, or your redemption…..not your anything.”

“You think you have a choice?” she asked, standing slowly. Her voice was silk soaked in venom. Her gown flowed around her like smoke, every step she took toward me echoing across the crystalline floor. “You think free will exists in Wonderland? In my court?”

She stopped behind me again, close enough that I could feel the hum of her presence crawling across my skin like silk.

I tensed, but didn’t flinch when her fingers—cool and precise—brushed the nape of my neck, just beneath the collar.

The contact sent a jolt of energy spiraling through me, and I nearly gagged at the twisted sweetness of her scent—jasmine and blood and something deeper. Rotting roses under the sun.

"You’ll see, eventually,” she went on. “You’ll come to understand.

Power. Purpose. A place in the only dynasty that will ever matter.

” She released me then, her fingers lingering for a heartbeat too long before pulling away.

I felt the phantom touch remain—like ink staining parchment, impossible to erase.

"All these pretty lies," I whispered, my voice steadier than I expected. "Dressed up like gifts when they're really chains."

Her eyes narrowed, crimson irises darkening to the color of old blood. She circled back to her chair, movements fluid as water over stone, and settled with regal precision.

"You misunderstand the nature of royal power," she said, lifting the decanter herself this time. The ruby liquid caught starlight as it poured, hypnotic in its movement.

"And you speak of power like it's the only thing that matters," I said, finding my voice despite the lingering sensation of her touch on my skin. "But there are different kinds of strength."

She circled back to face me, one elegant eyebrow arched in amusement. "Oh? And what strength do you possess that could possibly compare to mine? I've ruled Wonderland for centuries. I've bent reality to my will, made kingdoms kneel, and torn apart those who defied me."

Through our weakened bond, I felt Heart's consciousness stir again—stronger this time, as if he was fighting his way back from the brink. The golden thread pulsed with determination, and I drew courage from it.

"The strength to resist," I said simply. "To choose connection over control. That's what terrifies you, isn't it?”

The Queen gave a small laugh, “Aren’t you precious …perhaps a demonstration," she said, turning to the silent attendants who had been watching from the shadows. "Bring in the girl."

The doors opened, and two card soldiers entered, dragging between them a young woman whose face was streaked with tears. Her dress was torn, her hair matted, but what struck me most were her eyes—wide with terror yet somehow empty, as if something essential had been carved from her soul.

"This is Lily," the Red Queen explained, gesturing dismissively toward the trembling girl. "She was found attempting to pass information to the resistance. A minor betrayal, but betrayal nonetheless."

I watched as the soldiers forced Lily to her knees before the Queen. The girl didn't fight—she seemed beyond that now, her movements mechanical as she bowed her head in submission.

"Lily," the Red Queen said softly, her voice suddenly gentle. "Look at our guest."

The girl's head lifted slowly, her movements jerky like a marionette with tangled strings. When her eyes met mine, I felt a chill race down my spine. They were clouded, distant—windows to a mind that had been shattered and poorly reassembled.

"Tell Alice what happens when someone defies me," the Queen commanded, her voice still carrying that deceptive gentleness.

Lily's lips trembled before she spoke, her voice a hollow whisper. "She takes... pieces of you. Not all at once. Just... enough that you still remember who you were." Her fingers twisted in the fabric of her torn dress. "She leaves just enough that the pain has somewhere to live."

The Red Queen smiled, pleased with this recitation.

"Blood magic is an art form," she explained, fingers trailing across Lily's trembling shoulder.

"Most practitioners are crude butchers, but true mastery lies in precision.

Knowing exactly how much to take, how much to leave, where to cut so the wound never quite heals. "

I forced myself to hold Lily's gaze, to witness her suffering without flinching away. The hollow emptiness in her eyes reflected whatever horrors the Queen had inflicted—not just physical pain, but something deeper. Soul-deep violation that had left her fractured.

"Look at what resistance earned her," the Queen continued, circling Lily like a predator assessing wounded prey. "And she was merely passing notes. Imagine what awaits those who defy me directly."

My throat tightened with rage and grief. Through our weakened bond, I felt Heart's consciousness surge with protective fury at what I was witnessing and I couldn’t help but feel that escaping here really might be impossible.

"You're a monster." The words slipped out before I could stop them.

The Red Queen's smile only widened, as if I'd paid her a compliment. "I am what Wonderland required me to become. What grief and power and centuries of rule have shaped." She gestured to the guards. "Take Lily back to her quarters. Make sure she's comfortable."

The girl's vacant eyes flickered briefly as she was lifted to her feet. For just a moment, something lucid shone through—a warning, perhaps, or simply recognition of a fellow prisoner. Then she was gone, dragged from the chamber with the same eerie compliance that had marked her entire presence.

"Now," the Queen said, returning her attention to me with renewed focus.

"Shall we try again?" She pushed the glass toward me once more, her ruby eyes gleaming with expectation.

"Drink, or the next demonstration will be far less pleasant.

Perhaps one of your precious anchors will volunteer—the Cheshire Cat, maybe?

I'm told his kind are particularly susceptible to blood magic when caught between realities. "

The threat sent ice through my veins. I could feel Chi's distant presence through our silver bond—stretched thin but unbroken, searching desperately across realities for me. The thought of him suffering Lily's fate was unbearable.