Mated to the Chaos - Georgette St. Clair Page 0,13

busy. You are strong, my love, but this is stronger. The Unseelie are the best to be with her while I’m protecting the pack.”

“Good.”

Her prim smile made Carlo groan. Dominic walked right into that one, and easily.

Dominic blinked. “What?”

“I already knew that. You’ve been the one complaining. Eiravel and Cynes? Thank you, guys. There’d be no better hands other than my mate’s.”

The men bowed. “Of course, Zoey. Anything for Isadora.” Eiravel cut his glance toward Dominic, and the Alpha growled.

Zoey smacked Dominic on the arm. “Cut it out, Dom. You can punish me for it later. They have been protecting her anyway. They were obviously telling the truth that the bond is only half complete and nothing will change on that until Isadora can make the choice. Deal with it.”

Carlo coughed. “Then we have our orders?”

“We’ll send for another meeting if we have to. Thank you all for coming,” Arturo said, dismissing the meeting.

“It’s nice to sit at the table with the others. I may do this again.” Adonis’s gaze traced over the table before they stopped on Pasquale. He took a deep breath and frowned, his eyes glazing over.

“What is it, Alpha of the Moonstone?”

Pasquale talked less than even Arturo when he was watching, and his mate had taken on the trait since becoming the Alpha female of the Bianchi. Giuliana stepped forward, a united front. If Carlo hadn’t been watching them, he’d have missed it.

“I don’t know,” Adonis answered, shaking his head. He sniffed again. “I have no idea.” His eyes cleared, and he looked to Arturo. “I’ll be in touch as soon as prep is done.”

“As will I,” Torin agreed.

Arturo nodded. “Then we face what comes.”

As they all stood, Nanshe came to Carlo. “It seems we shall be together.”

“Almost as if it was planned,” Carlo hissed.

Nanshe lifted one brow. “Because I’d plan world annihilation just to be with you.”

Yeah, it sounded silly to him too, but he was grasping at straws. Proximity to Nanshe during the preparation time would not be easy. And with the saucy smile the minx gave him as she waited at the elevator, she knew it.

Goddess save him from a persistent woman.

“You’ve said that before. Funny, why would a Goddess save you from one of her own?”

Yeah, he should have thought about that, but men, just like a god, would have been too stubborn to see it.

“As I’ve said, stubborn male.”

Chapter Five

Fabiana slashed at her canvas like a woman gone crazy, specs of vibrant gold spreading over the white. With each twitch of her paintbrush, she delved deeper into the work she created. The dreams had gotten worse, so much worse. Each night they pulled her from the calm darkness into visions of things that flashed by too fast for her to make sense of anything.

Hurt.

Anger.

A broken woman screaming into the void of the Chaos Realm.

The Realm shattering and spilling out magic.

And now, worse than anything, was someone she knew.

Even as her mind processed it—after the other piece where she’d seen so many of her friends dead and torn—this one made her grow cold.

This one made her wonder if there was always something else inside of people they couldn’t show.

Like her.

Fabiana had lived too long acting a role, playing the part her father demanded from her so she wouldn’t hurt anymore, or others wouldn’t have to take her punishments. And that had fractured her, into a vixen and a mouse who wanted to hide away.

But the paintings made her step into the light. She couldn’t hide them, couldn’t shy away from the fact they were showing her something. Even if her logical mind made her fight against it and want to paint pretty landscapes with fluffy white clouds and glittering green trees.

Ever since the first piece, though, each additional painting had been of the Chaos Realm, where Asherah had been held prisoner. Fabiana hadn’t known who Asherah was until she’d met her when Heath saved the Fae from the Chaos Realm. Or the painting with the wolves racing toward the Scorched Earth, which then led to them realizing that’s where Heath had taken Silva. And then the one that brought Giuliana to her knees: a black with reddish tones wolf and the woman with red hair.

Something changed for Fabiana when she started doing these paintings like this. The scientist in her—which seemed an oxymoron when she had a creative soul—saw the facts.

One, Fabiana had painted them.

Two, she’d painted them long before things happened.

Three, events had occurred which lined up with the information made