Page 47 of Knot My Wonderland, Part Two (Fairytale Omegaverse #2)

Chapter

Twenty-Nine

ALICE

I fell to the ground, my body trembling from overusing my magic.

The silver grass cushioned my fall as magical exhaustion crashed over me like a tidal wave.

The pattern beneath my skin flickered erratically, silver and gold light sputtering like a candle in the wind as I struggled to catch my breath.

"That's enough," Heart said firmly, kneeling beside me with worry etched across his features. His golden patterns reached toward mine instinctively, offering support through our mated bond.

"No," I gasped, trying to push myself up on shaking arms. "I almost had it. The shield-to-attack transition?—"

"Nearly gave you magical backlash," Chi interrupted, his tail wrapping around my wrist to keep me from attempting to rise. "You've been at this for six hours straight."

Through our bonds, I felt their collective concern as the pattern's light continued its chaotic flickering.

The integration training had proven more demanding than any of us had anticipated.

Creating shields was one thing; maintaining them while simultaneously weaving offensive magic was quite another.

My latest attempt had collapsed spectacularly, the conflicting energies rebounding through my system like lightning seeking ground.

"One more try," I insisted, though my voice lacked conviction even to my own ears.

Vee crouched beside me, his silver eyes clinical as he assessed my condition. "Your magical reserves are critically depleted. Continuing would risk permanent damage to your connection with the pattern."

The severity in his tone finally penetrated my stubborn determination. Through our opalescent bond, I felt his genuine alarm—not just concern, but actual fear for what might happen if I pushed further.

"Fine," I conceded, allowing Heart to help me into a sitting position. "A short break, then."

"A long break," Dee corrected, as he gave me an almost chastising look

"The day is done," Heart declared, his tone leaving no room for argument. "You've made exceptional progress, but even exceptional progress has limits."

I wanted to protest, but the world tilted alarmingly when I tried to sit up straighter. Heart's arm tightened around my waist, steadying me as the pattern beneath my skin continued its erratic pulsing.

"This isn't like before," Chi said quietly, his teal eyes serious as he studied the flickering light. "The integration is straining the pattern itself, not just your own limitations."

Through our bonds, I felt their shared concern—not just for my physical wellbeing, but for the deeper connection that tied me to Wonderland's ancient magic. The mating bond with Heart provided stability, but even it couldn't compensate for the complex magical weaving I'd been attempting all day.

“Two more days..”I muttered, feeling the pressure of what is to come.

"Two more days," Dee repeated, his silver eyes softening with understanding. "Which is precisely why you need to rest now. Exhausting yourself completely today won't help us tomorrow."

Through our opalescent bond, I felt his temporal awareness brushing against my consciousness—glimpses of probability tracks that required me to be at full strength when we faced the Queen. The urgency I felt was mirrored in his calculations, but tempered by pragmatic concern for sustainability.

"The pattern needs time to integrate what you've learned," Vee added, his analytical mind already working through the magical theory. "Forced progression beyond your current capacity will actually slow your development, not accelerate it."

Chi's tail tightened around my wrist as another wave of dizziness washed over me. "Besides, we've all seen what you can do when properly rested. Yesterday's shield work was flawless after you recovered from overexertion."

I sighed, reluctantly conceding their point. The memory of yesterday's training session was still fresh—how much easier everything had felt after a night of rest, how the pattern had responded with eager precision rather than erratic flickering.

"Alright," I agreed finally, letting Heart pull me fully to my feet. My legs trembled beneath me, forcing me to lean heavily against his solid warmth. "But tomorrow we start early."

"After you've properly recovered," Heart stipulated, his arm secure around my waist as we began the slow journey back to the cabin. The walk that normally took minutes stretched painfully longer as I struggled to put one foot in front of the other.

"I could carry you," Chi offered, his tail still wrapped supportively around my wrist.

I shook my head stubbornly. "I can walk."

"Barely," Vee observed dryly, though his silver eyes carried genuine worry as he watched me stumble slightly. "Pride is admirable, but practicality serves us better."

"Just let me try," I insisted, though each step felt like walking through thick honey. The pattern beneath my skin had settled into a dull, irregular pulse that made my entire body ache with each flicker.

We made it perhaps halfway to the cabin before my knees buckled completely. Heart caught me before I could hit the ground, his golden patterns flaring with alarm as he swept me into his arms despite my weak protests.

"Stubborn woman," he muttered, though his voice carried more affection than exasperation. Through our mated bond, I felt his deep concern wrapped in protective instincts that had nothing to do with magic and everything to do with love.

"I'm fine," I mumbled against his chest, though we both knew it was a lie. The world swayed even from the security of his arms, exhaustion making my vision blur at the edges.

"You're anything but fine," Chi said, his teal eyes dark with worry as he kept pace beside us. "Your patterns are barely holding cohesion."

Through our bonds, I felt their collective alarm as another wave of magical backlash rippled through me. The pattern's light dimmed further, silver and gold threads unraveling at the edges where they met my depleted consciousness.

"Almost there," Heart murmured, his golden warmth flowing through our connection in an attempt to stabilize my faltering magic. "Just hold on."

The cabin appeared through my hazy vision like a mirage, crystal windows glowing with soft light that made my aching head pound. Heart carried me straight to the bed, settling me gently against the pillows while the others clustered around with obvious concern.

Chi disappeared for a moment, returning with another steaming mug of moonflower tea. "Drink this," he instructed, helping me sit up enough to manage small sips. "It should help stabilize the pattern's resonance."

The herbal concoction worked its way through my system slowly, each swallow bringing marginal relief to the chaotic pulsing beneath my skin.

“It would be best for you to get some sleep and rest until your magic is back to normal.” Dee spoke up, frown on his face as he looked at me, “You are exhausted and doing anything else will be detrimental for your health.”

I wanted to argue, but another wave of dizziness made the room spin around me. "I don't want to waste time sleeping when we have so little left," I protested weakly, though my eyes were already growing heavy.

"Sleep isn't wasting time—it's necessary for recovery," Vee said firmly, his silver eyes reflecting calculations I was too exhausted to follow. "The pattern requires rest to properly integrate today's training. Without it, tomorrow's session will be counterproductive."

Chi settled beside me on the bed, “I”ll stay with you for now.” He glanced at Heart as if communicating silently and earning a nod in agreement.

Heart pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead, his golden patterns pulsing with reluctant agreement. "Chi's right. And I need to discuss tomorrow's modified training schedule with the Tweedles anyway." Through our mated bond, I felt his desire to stay warring with practical necessity.

"We'll keep the session shorter but more focused," Vee was already saying as they moved toward the door. "Integration work in smaller increments to prevent this level of depletion."

"And more frequent breaks," Dee added, his temporal devices humming as he calculated optimal rest intervals. "The probability matrices show better outcomes with sustainable pacing rather than intensive marathons."

As their voices faded into the main room, I found myself alone with Chi, his silver patterns casting gentle light across the cabin walls. His tail had remained curled around my wrist, a constant source of comfort as the moonflower tea worked to settle my

"You're worried about running out of time," Chi observed quietly, his teal eyes studying my face as the pattern beneath my skin gradually steadied. "I can feel it through our bond—this desperate urgency that's driving you past your limits."

I nodded weakly, unable to deny what he could sense so clearly. "What if two days isn't enough? What if I'm not ready and people suffer because of my inadequacy?"

Chi's expression softened, his free hand coming up to brush a strand of hair from my face.

"You know what I see when I look at you?

" he asked, his voice gentle but firm. "Someone who fell into an impossible situation and not only survived, but thrived.

Someone who formed bonds that shouldn't have been possible and mastered magic in weeks that takes others years to understand. "

Through our silver connection, I felt his absolute sincerity—no flattery or false comfort, just genuine belief in my capabilities that made something tight in my chest loosen slightly.

"You're just trying to make me feel better," I mumbled, though I leaned into his touch despite myself.

"I'm telling you the truth," Chi countered, his tail tightening gently around my wrist. "And I've lived long enough to recognize the difference between someone who's merely determined and someone who's genuinely extraordinary."

The silver bond between us pulsed with his conviction, carrying impressions too complex for words—his amazement at how quickly I'd adapted to Wonderland, his pride in watching me master techniques that had taken him decades to learn, his absolute certainty that I would rise to whatever challenges awaited us.

"I'm scared, Chi," I admitted in a whisper, the confession easier in the quiet intimacy of the moment. "Not just of failing, but of what happens if I succeed.”

Chi's teal eyes sharpened with understanding, his tail curling more protectively around my wrist as he processed my words. "What do you mean?"

I struggled to articulate the fear that had been growing alongside my power. "The pattern... it's changing me. I… I can feel it. What if I defeat the Queen but become something else in the process? What if I lose who I am?"

Through our silver bond, Chi felt the depth of my terror—not of death or failure, but of transformation into something unrecognizable. His patterns pulsed with gentle warmth as he considered my words carefully.

"The pattern doesn't replace who you are, Alice," he said finally, his voice carrying the weight of centuries of observation.

"It amplifies what's already there. Your compassion, your determination, your ability to see hope where others see only darkness—those aren't magical traits. They're purely, essentially you.”

The pattern beneath my skin shifted, responding to Chi's words with gentle pulses that seemed to affirm his assessment.

"But what if that's not enough?" I whispered, voicing the fear that lurked beneath all others. "What if who I am isn't strong enough to face what's coming?"

Chi's expression softened further, his tail unwrapping from my wrist to trace the outline of the golden mating mark on my neck. "That's why you have us," he said simply. "The bonds aren't just magical connections—they're reminders that you don't face this alone."

Through our silver connection, I felt the depth of his commitment—not just to Wonderland's salvation, but to me personally. The pattern responded to his emotions with steadier pulses, silver and gold light regaining some of its usual harmony.

"Besides," Chi continued, a hint of his usual mischief returning to his voice, "you're forgetting that we're quite fond of who you are already. We're not going to let you lose yourself to anything—not the pattern, not the Queen, not your own fears."

His hand found mine beneath the covers, fingers intertwining as his silver patterns pulsed with reassuring warmth. "We've all changed through our bonds with you, Alice. But change isn't always loss. Sometimes it's becoming more fully yourself than you ever thought possible."

I squeezed his hand, feeling some of the tension leave my shoulders as the moonflower tea continued its work. The pattern's light had steadied considerably, no longer the chaotic flickering of magical exhaustion but a gentle, rhythmic pulse that matched my gradually slowing heartbeat.

"You should sleep now," Chi murmured, though he made no move to leave. "I'll stay until you're properly rested."

"You don't have to," I protested weakly, though the thought of being alone made the pattern beneath my skin pulse with anxiety. "I'm sure you have other things to do."

"Nothing more important than this," Chi said softly, settling more comfortably beside me. His tail draped protectively across my waist, a comforting weight that helped anchor me as exhaustion pulled at my consciousness. "Rest, Alice. Let the pattern heal."

I wanted to say more, to thank him for understanding what I couldn't fully articulate, but sleep was already claiming me, dragging me down into darkness that felt like floating on a silver sea.

The last thing I registered was Chi's gentle humming, a Wonderlandian lullaby that seemed to speak directly to the pattern beneath my skin, soothing its restless energy into peaceful slumber.