Page 1 of Knot My Wonderland

Prologue

Alice

They always told me Wonderland was just a dream. Something my mind had made up—a place stitched together from fairy tales and fevered imagination. A land no sane person should believe in, much less mourn.

I believed them. For a long time, I believed them.

I buried it deep, packed it away like a childhood toy I'd outgrown. Because if I didn't, I'd start to wonder if I'd lost my mind. I'd start to remember the colors too bright to exist, the laughter that echoed without a source, the feeling of somethingwatchingme from just beyond the trees—something ancient and patient.

It was easier to pretend none of it was real.

Easier to grow up. Easier to forget.

Until today.

Until the ground crumbled under my feet. The cliff's edge had been slick with rain and moss, hidden beneath a blanket of fallenleaves. One second I was walking, humming to myself, the next—My boot slipped.

The world spun. Gravity seized me with cruel, sudden hands. I didn't even have time to scream before the earth swallowed me whole. The fall should have killed me. It should have left me broken at the bottom of some ravine, another stupid hiker who wandered too far off-trail. Instead, I landed with a jarring thud against ground that felt almost… soft. Like falling into the belly of a living thing. I lay there for a long moment, stunned, breathing hard. My fingers dug into the dirt—cool and damp and somehow humming beneath my touch, like a heartbeat.

Slowly, painfully, I pushed myself up to my knees.And froze.

The sky above me was wrong. An endless, swirling tapestry of blues so deep they bled into violet, stitched with silver stars that pulsed like breathing things. The trees around me stretched impossibly high, their bark a luminous white, their leaves shimmering in the half-light like shards of broken mirrors. The air smelled heavy and wild—wet grass, crushed petals, something darker underneath that made the hair on the back of my neck rise.

"No," I whispered, voice hoarse. "No, no, no." But the forest answered. The ground beneath my palms throbbed once, almost gently. The trees sighed, their branches creaking like old bones.

Itwasreal. It had always been real.

Wonderland.

I staggered to my feet, heart hammering against my ribs hard enough to bruise.Panic clawed at me. I turned in a slow, useless circle, searching for any sign of the trail I'd been hiking—anything familiar, anything safe. There was nothing but forest. Deeper, darker, hungrier than I remembered.

As a child, I'd wandered this place in dreamlike wonder, chasing strange beasts and giggling at riddles whispered from unseen mouths. But now... now the forest watched me witheyes I couldn't see. And something deep inside me—something buried for so long it barely had a name—stirred. The air pressed against my skin like hands, tasting me.Judging.Claiming.

I gasped as heat flared low in my belly, sudden and primal. My senses sharpened painfully—the scent of the forest blooming into layers I couldn't separate, the rasp of my own breathing too loud in my ears. A flicker of shadow at the edge of my vision. Then another, darting between the trees.

Not animals. Not quite. The brush of instincts whispered at the base of my skull:Not alone. Not safe.

I backed up until my spine hit the rough bark of a tree. My breath sawed in and out of my lungs in sharp, shallow bursts. A figure stepped into the clearing. I barely recognized him at first.

The tall man wore a battered top hat slung low over a mess of dark, curling hair that had wisps of grey. His coat was worn at the edges, patched and frayed, a riot of colors that seemed to shift when I looked directly at them. In one gloved hand he leaned heavily on a gnarled walking stick.

But it was his face that made the ground tilt beneath me. Sharp bones. Wild green eyes that glittered like broken glass. A smile just this side of madness.

The Hatter.

He stared at me like he was seeing a ghost. His lips parted in a silent breath. For a long, stretched moment, neither of us moved. Then he whispered, voice breaking on the words, "Little Alice. My Alice."

Tears pricked hot behind my eyes. No one had called me that in so long—not since before I'd convinced myself I’d dreamed it all.

"I..." My throat closed around the words. I shook my head helplessly. "I don’t understand."

"You’re home," he said, stepping closer. His voice was rougher now, raw with something like awe. "Wonderland never forgets its Dreamers."

He paused as he moved closer taking a deep breath, “Though, I never thought you would be an Omega.” The forest around us seemed to shudder in agreement.

I opened my mouth—to ask how, why, anything—but a sharp crack in the distance snapped my head around. The Hatter moved instantly, faster than seemed possible, positioning himself between me and the sound. His hand slid inside his coat and emerged with a glint of steel—a long, wicked-looking knife.

"Not safe here," the Hatter murmured. "Lets get you somewhere safe."

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