Chapter Five
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FABIANA SLASHED ATher 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, Fabianahadpainted them.
Two, she’d painted them long before things happened.
Three, eventshadoccurred which lined up with the information made in color on the canvas.
Four, magic existed in the world, greater than any of them knew.
Taking all of those into account, Fabiana couldn’t ignore that her paintings were prophetic,future pendingto be exact.
