Unbound

Chapter 9

I couldn't bear to look Marie in the eye when I arrived at the clinic the following morning. I'd woken up with a start to the sound of the car's engine revving when Ephraim came to drive it back hours before dawn, and I hadn't slept since. I looked disheveled and exhausted, and my muscles still twinged when I moved too quickly. I didn't want to give her the satisfaction of knowing she'd succeeded in humiliating me, but it was written all over me when I passed her in the hallway on my way to the storeroom.

Once inside, it was obvious that she and the other healers had taken full advantage of my absence the day before to come in and take what they needed. Most of the shelves I'd meticulously worked through were only somewhat rearranged, but some were entirely jumbled in a way that made me think it was purposeful, rather than innocent use. It would set me back at least a week to redo the work.

Anger bubbled up inside my chest, hot and fast. I leaned forward and gripped the sides of the stool and took several deep breaths, picturing what it would feel like to smash its legs into the shelves, shattering the glass jars on the floor and sending their contents cascading around the room. The only thing that stopped me was knowing that I'd be the one to have to clean it up in the end. Jack always said that I had the temper of a full-blooded wolf, and imagining his teasing forced something close to a smile to my lips. It was the first time that a memory of him almost brought me more joy than pain.

That realization carried me through the next few days as I once again settled into the rhythm of my monotonous work. I found a medical encyclopedia stashed away in a drawer, so I took breaks every so often to read about the ingredients I was sorting through. Had I found it sooner, I would have recognized the calendula page the second Marie gave it to me. I found the bottom half still attached toward the front of the book: The dried petals of the calendula plant are used in tinctures, ointments, and washes to treat burns, bruises, and cuts, as well as the minor infections they cause. Flowers range from yellow to orange; blooms early summer to first frost.

Days like today, with the heady scent of herbs heavy in the air and snow falling noiselessly outside the window, I could almost imagine myself being content here. Almost—but not quite.

Ever the bearer of ill tidings, Marie came in just as I was flipping the book open for the third time that morning.

"You—" She paused when she saw me with the book. "What are you doing?"

"Reading," I said over my shoulder. "If I'm ever going to be able to use any of this stuff, I should know what it's for."

I could almost hear her biting back a harsh retort. You never will, I thought she'd say. Instead: "You've been requested by the Alpha."

The words on the page in front of me grew blurry and my lungs filled with cold, concrete-hard dread.

"Is there a problem?" I asked. I hated that she could sense my fear, but in that moment there was nothing I could do to hide it.

"Ephraim is waiting outside to take you now." Her voice was tight.

"Now?" I twisted around to look at her, eyes wide. I thought this was a warning, at least. The Alpha has requested your presence tomorrow, or next week, she would have added. Not today. I was wearing the same sweater I'd worn two days in a row and I was almost positive I hadn't brushed my hair since the morning before. I ran my fingers through the knots roughly and came away with a handful of loose strands that I shook onto the ground.

"Do I have to explain to you the meaning of the word, or have you primped sufficiently?" Marie sneered. I dug my fingernails into my palms, determined not to snap back, and plastered a smile on my face.