Page 5 of Petals and Strings (Broken Melodies #1)

Chapter Five

Kane

T he face taking shape in front of my eyes was heart-achingly familiar, yet haunting. Her amber gaze and black hair had haunted my disjointed dreams for years.

Yet, I still sit here, painting her day after day.

Streaks of wet paint splash across the thin canvas. The colors are muted no matter what I do, my mind seems to go into a state of numbness and when I tune back in it’s the same dull patterns and colors.

The same eyes that send an ache of sadness and longing through me.

Footsteps approach, the slow, methodical steps announcing Theo’s arrival. My stomach tightens into a painful knot as I turn to him.

“Again? Are you sure you’re even a beta? I’ve never seen a beta hold onto an obsession like this… only omegas,” he sighs as if he’s disappointed in me, somehow. They ask me to paint my jumbled thoughts into existence then criticize the outcome. Him. The doctor. The other therapists.

The art therapist disagreed, her eyes narrowing at him but she wasn’t brave enough to stop him.

“She’s all I see.”

“You know who she is, Kane. You just have to face those locked memories.”

“Why is it that every one of them somehow locks their memories down?” One of the nurses scoffs. “Must be a reflection of character.”

Like we’re fucking weak.

As if we chose to be here, with broken bonds and fractured memories. I’d rather be normal. Bitch.

My calm was snatched away, replaced by a raw fury. It flared in the room, singing my scent and vibrating through me with an intensity that stole the breath from my trembling, useless lungs.

“I’m sorry if our fucking trauma is too hard for you to swallow. Some of us don’t have the luxury of ignorance,” I growled. For a beta, this anger was intense enough that she staggered back, clutching her chest as if I shot her right in the heart.

“Remove yourself from the room, Kane,” Theo ordered, putting himself between us like he was dying to be a hero.

I could surely make him a martyr. It would be so easy. The anger made me feel stronger. More in control even if it was a smoke screen.

“Go,” he ordered again, this time his voice hard as his hand rested on the device that would activate my bracelet.

I’d die before letting them drug me again. The threat was enough.

“Fine,” I bit out as I stood, knocking over the canvas and stalking past the nurse. The anger faded as quickly as it came, a serene smile taking over as I quickly forgot what had brought it on in the first place.

A flash of memory hit me, the ghost of an omega in my mind. The dream girl with piercing, amber eyes and a frown on her face.

What put that look there?

Did I?

That chased away the sudden chipper mood, replacing it by a melancholy that drenched my bones in lead and weighed down every step, each breath, even my thoughts turned sluggish.

Ansel was the only one in our common area when I arrived. He looked up from his own sketchbook with curious eyes. He nodded once at me, the most he ever does.

I collapsed into a chair across the room, eyes fluttering closed as I tried yet again to pull the fleeting images in my brain to the front so I could examine them closer.

My fingers shook as I skimmed them over my collarbone. The soft ridges were still there, a tease of a life I had before yet couldn’t remember. God, I wanted to.

“Dinner,” Ledger called out as he walked out of his room, door slamming closed behind him. His voice was always a low rumble, like thunder creeping into the night, a warning of a storm that would never hit. He was too steady and in control. Unlike me.

It fit the alpha. He was subdued, yet still just as terrifying when he wanted. He made sure each of us were eating and attending what was required, keeping the staff from drugging us into oblivion.

They respected him, unlike the rest of us. I’d heard whispers of his last name. Apparently, D’Angelos held weight. Though, I had no idea why.

Ansel and I both stood, the omega casting his eyes at the floor as he walked past us both. His steps were hurried and the moment Rydell stepped into the hall I realized why.

The half-feral alpha had a snarl permanently on his face. His scent was sickly sweet and spicy, making my nose burn. Plum, violet, paper and ink. It was always laced with something dark and spiced… maybe the feral side of himself.

Even his voice was animalistic, a hard edge lacing every word, winding around it like a thorny vine and making it painful to hear. I couldn’t imagine how it felt to the alpha himself.

Rydell even looked intimidating, body covered in ink with those dark green eyes that saw too much and a shock of inky black hair. His face was permanently twisted into a scowl, as if it would be scarier than the dominance wafting off of him.

He was the last of our group, aside from me, that wore a bracelet still. It was too dangerous for him not to have one.

Me? I was too fucking lost, incompetent, to be trusted.

A disappointment to my medical team and myself.

Maybe even her .

The sharp ache hit me, piercing through the fading bite. I wondered if she felt it too.

If so, why wasn’t she here?

Every so often there was a flicker of feeling, but it was a whisper that was gone like the wisps of smoke left behind when you blew out a candle. Tainting the air in its sulfuric scent, reminding you of the vibrance that it once had.

Then nothing.

Easily forgotten. Scent fading quickly.

“Hey.” The strong hand made me jump, jolting me out of my head. Ledger didn’t say another word or smile, he just nodded his head at the hall, urging me to move.

I started to walk, but he didn’t follow. He turned to the empty room.

It was then I realized it was no longer bare, but filled with the presence of another omega.

Her scent wafted into the hall. It was laced in fear, tainting the edges of the scent.

An intoxicating mix of floral, citrus, and spice.

Rainwater, cool and rejuvenating, the type of spring shower that seemed to wash all the bad away from the world, letting it have a fresh start.

Then there was a delicious undertone of rose and sandalwood, that rounded out the freshness with a hint of natural, earthy spice.

She was nature personified.

Why did that send a sharp ache through me? A sense of wrong that I couldn’t explain?

Fuck.

Terror struck me enough I was rushing ahead to the dining room just to escape it.

She was new, a change, one I wasn’t prepared for.

Hell, would I even remember her tomorrow?

It took far too long for my brain to latch onto people and things. Another symptom of living a half-life.

No matter how many times the doctors reassured me my memory would fix itself when I let myself face what my brain hid away, it had never happened. It wasn’t for lack of trying. I wasn’t lazy.

Just lost.

The dining hall was busy when I stumbled in. My eyes drifted over the room, landing on our assigned table. Caspian was eating like a mindless robot, eyes vacant and scent withering with grief and sadness.

I hurried through the line, letting the staff drop random things onto my plate without caring what it was. My attention stayed locked on the door, expecting Ledger and the omega to come in at any moment.

My smile fell as Theo walked in, casting me a dark, warning look before turning and making sure his whole group was in here.

He was in charge of our wing and one other, always trying to look the best so Director Cross thought things were under control here. It was always a fucking show for him. Best behavior and kind words we never received when he wasn’t in sight.

More lies.

Even forcing us all to eat together in here was a show. It was proof he had control. Or at least pretended to have control of us.

Rydell was the exception, his meals often delivered to his room to keep the peace. They were terrified of the alpha and he liked it that way.

With a sigh I took my tray to our table, setting it down next to Ansel instead of Caspian.

The alpha’s scent was always so thick with desolation in these moments of silence that it left your stomach churning.

Ansel’s was strong too, just in a different way.

I’d adjusted to his sweetness to the point it was familiar now.

Ansel glanced at me with his dark blue eyes before hurriedly shifting them back down. His dark hair was soft and floppy, falling in front of his gaze to hide it.

I didn’t take it personally and it was better than falling down into the pit with Caspian.

Hurt called to hurt. It always drew up the same grief from within me and I had to fight to keep it at bay.

My moods shifted so often that it was dizzying, add in forgetfulness and it was even worse. I didn’t need more.

Though, in these moments where I watched Caspian lose himself like this, I was grateful for the sudden reprieves my own brain gave me.

At least it kept me from sinking into myself completely, losing the last touches of reality.

I picked up my fork and stabbed the tines into the limp pasta waiting for me. Even the food here was as jaded and discolored as my paintings. There was no vibrancy to life here.

The chair next to me scraped out and I was hit with that scent again, mixing now with Ledger’s deep, masculine scent.

“This is Audrey, she’s in our wing now,” Ledger said as he pushed her chair in. “This is Kane, next to you. Caspian is at the end of the table.”

Caspian didn’t look up but I offered her a hollow smile. Her mismatched eyes flickered to me. One dark blue, the other light like the summer sky, as if it had faded thanks to the scar that ran right through it.

She was beautiful, but in that same haunting way the woman in my painting was. A ghost that might fade if you looked too long.

“Hi.” It was a rasp of a word, spoken in a rush before she was staring at the table in front of her.

“I’ll go grab some food this time,” Ledger offered as he disappeared before she could protest. The omega frowned after him and I could scent her confusion in the air.

“He’s a caretaker. He really doesn’t mind,” I told her before turning back to my food. She made a noise but didn’t utter another word. If she was the one who fought in the lobby yesterday then she was probably still feeling the awful sedative.

We’d all been there. Some more than others.

Ledger joined us again with two trays in hand. He pushed one in front of Audrey, keeping the other for himself.

He’d just raised the fork to his mouth when another chair scraped out and Theo flopped into it.

“You have a medicine appointment with Dr. Malik after dinner, Audrey,” he said, casting her a look that dared her to argue. The omega swallowed hard and looked away, giving no confirmation.

“She’ll be there,” Ledger said.

Theo let out a hum of disapproval. “Last time I checked, keeping the group in check is my job, not yours, Ledger.”

“Never said it was my job,” he said easily, not letting a hint of emotion or frustration in his voice. I wondered how many years he practiced to perfect that. “Are we not supposed to be welcoming and show our new people around?”

Theo studied him but said nothing. His jaw ticked, the only real sign he wasn’t happy with Ledger’s response. With a sigh, he stood, giving us each a look of warning like we might break out in a riot at any moment and stalked away.

“Is he always that uptight?” Audrey asked. Her voice was a hoarse whisper, but the hate she glared after Theo with was intense.

“Yes,” I answered. “He came in during art therapy and…”

“Again?” Ledger cut me off, looking unhappy. He’d seen the way they treated me firsthand. He was the only alpha who didn’t dismiss or belittle me here.

Everyone else acted as if I was stupid, no real thoughts or feelings. I was lost, adrift, not fucking dumb.

Hate welled in my chest for the beta that was more harmful in his therapy than he was helpful.

Not that our protests did anything. Who would we tell? He was in charge of our entire lives alongside Dr. Malik.

“Eat, wildling. You’ll want a full stomach to take any meds he gives you.”

“Do I have to take them?”

A question I asked myself daily. The answer was always the same.

“Yes. Otherwise there are consequences,” I said with a sigh.

Isolation. Lost privileges. Forced medication.

She let out a weary sigh but didn’t argue. It was impossible to deny the truth.

The rest of the meal was finished in silence. She didn’t ask more questions and what could we really talk to her about?

This place? Talk about a depressing topic.

Ledger and I cleared the table together, tossing the trash in the bins and putting the trays on the line, before leading our new group-member to the infirmary and making sure Caspian made it back to his room.

The moment I was away from her scent, I was hollow again. I had felt almost normal for a moment at dinner. Present, at least, and that was close enough.

It shouldn’t affect me. I’d been bonded before. The woman in the painting had to be my mate. Not many were scent compatible beyond your mates. It was likely not real. A fluke.

Maybe she was simply the first bright spot in an otherwise dull world. My brain trying to find more ways to ruin me.