Page 73 of Knot My Wonderland: Part Two
"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. "Theprobability 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 watchingme 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.
