The magic inside me
779 Words
Amanda POV:
I awoke from a short nap, having no recollection of falling asleep. I was on a round bed with black silk sheets. The black curtains were like smoke billowing near a balcony, except under more focused evaluation, I realized it was smoke, and not the curtains at all. I got off the bed, my feet were swollen from this weird escapade. He was standing on the obsidian balcony, his back turned to me, as he gripped the sharp ledge gently but firmly. I made my way to him, and instantly as I stepped on the black obsidian ground, I felt a surge of electricity flow through me. I hissed and staggered back, clutching my stomach. "What was that!?" I snapped. He turned around, "You're starting to sound like your old self," he said mockingly. I felt embarrassed and looked away. "It was Wonderland recognizing you as one of its own," he said, "but, I'm human!" I protested, and he smirked, "for now."
A pulse of warm pressure spread through my palms, traveling up my arms like a rising tide. I rubbed at my skin, panicked, but the warmth grew stronger—thick and humming like invisible veins running beneath my flesh. My heart pounded. Something inside me responded—something that wasn’t mine. Or maybe something that was, and always had been.
"No," I whispered. "No, this is wrong. I’m not… magical."
His golden eyes glowed with maddening certainty. "Your mother never told you, did she? How your grandmother vanished for three nights as a girl, only to return speaking in riddles for weeks? How your mother could see shadows before they formed?" I froze. Cold swept through me. "How do you know about—?" Before I could finish, he cut me off. "She made a bargain." His smile curved like a blade. "A foolish one," he paused, "human women always do when Wonderland whispers to them."
The warm magic pulsing through me sharpened—turning into a tight, hot ache beneath my sternum. I pressed my hand to my chest.
Inside me—
The baby kicked, and the magic surged higher, as if responding. A strand of hair fell into my face. The end glowed. I choked on a breath. “What is happening to me?” There was panic in my voice and I couldn't hide it even if I wanted to. The Prince stepped close enough that his shadow swallowed mine. "You carry a child touched by Wonderland’s core. Life awakened by realm-magic always ignites the mother first." The warmth in my body turned molten by his words. "I don’t want this," I said through gritted teeth.
"Magic doesn’t bend to want," he murmured. "Only to truth." He lifted his hand but didn’t touch me—just hovered his palm an inch from my chest and my skin lit up. A soft, glowing pattern unfurled across my sternum—spiraling lines like vines, runes, and a symbol shaped like an eye blooming from the center. Light spilled from my skin onto his palm. I stared in horror. "My god! What's happening to me!" His voice dropped to a reverent whisper. "The Mark of the Seer."
"The what?" "Your bloodline has always been tied to Wonderland," he said. "But dormant. Silent." His eyes flicked to my stomach. "Until now."
A sharp, stabbing wave tore through me—so fierce it forced me to my knees. My hands hit the glass—
And it shattered. But not into shards. Into reflections. Dozens and hundreds. Each one glowing with the same swirling runes I’d seen on my chest. On one reflection, my eyes were glowing silver. In another, I lifted my hands and vines rose at my command. In another, the child inside me cupped their tiny palm against my womb, and a ripple of magic shot outward.
In another—
I wore a crown made of thorns and light.
I staggered back, shaking. "This… this isn’t me." Memories of me as a snotty and hoity-toity b***h came flooding back. That was me. Selfish and vain. The Prince crouched in front of me, his gold eyes burning with a hunger that wasn’t flesh—it was prophecy.
"It is," he said softly. "You were born with a dormant sight. But Wonderland recognizes its kin." He lifted my chin with one claw-tipped finger, forcing me to meet my own reflection—high-cheeked, glowing, terrified. "And now," he whispered, "your magic has awakened."
My pulse went wild. The mirrors vibrated, the symbols on my skin pulsed brighter, and the child inside me twisted—not painfully, but with purpose. I wasn’t just in Wonderland.
Wonderland was inside me.
- Writer
