Forbidden

Chapter 16

16

I sat in one of the high backed, floral printed chairs in Mamma Rowan’s tiny little cottage on the outskirts of Pack land and watched as she carefully selected a thin, silver, gilt, knife from an array of them she had spread out on a tray.

She positioned the knife at the top of the bulky cast that I wore, amidst all the “get well soon’s” and corny jokes from my well wishing friends that were etched into the white plaster with magic markers of all shades of the rainbow. The knife sank into the thick, hard plaster and cotton as if it were butter.

Once a deep line had split the cast in half, Mamma Rowan took her old, wizened hands and split open the cast, removing it from my leg. I marveled her strength and wiggled my toes.

She laid the contraption beside her feet on the floral carpet and lifted a wash basin with a cloth in it into her lap. The smell of witch hazel confused my nostrils, and she carefully laid the wet cloth over my leg, rubbing the skin for a moment before applying a strong, herbal smelling salve behind it.

It was oddly soothing.

My mother sat in another armchair like my own, and I wondered to myself how she got comfortable in it. She was studiously doodling something in one of her expensive Molskiné art journals.

“Your leg should be good enough to fully walk on by nightfall,” Mamma Rowan informed me with a gap toothed smile that showed all her pearly white teeth. “I wouldn’t try shifting so soon though if I were you.”

“What?” I asked incredulously. “I have to shift; they’re running the woods today!”

“Well my darling, I’m sure there’s something else that’s constructive enough for you to do at home.” My mother said, looking up from her sketch and tapping her 4B pencil against her lips.

I looked to Mamma Rowan for help but all she did was shrug and start to put away her utensils.

“What?” I said again, sure she wasn’t serious.

My mother looked up from her sketches again and quirked an eyebrow at me.

“But… I need to go out on a run mom! I haven’t been for weeks now!” I argued, shifting in the chair; Mamma Rowan’s wrinkled hands pushed me back down in my seat.

“Easy now, don’t want to mangle that bone again,” she warned in a soft voice, but I could pay no attention to her.

What was the big deal about going on a run tonight? My leg was healed! If anything, going on a run tonight in wolf form should strengthen it.

“Too bad,” my mom replied, sketching in something on the thin page. “You’re staying in tonight, that’s final.”

I frowned at her and folded my arms. “But—”

“No buts Misha.” She said, shooting me a disciplinary look.

I scowled.

“Stretch that leg dear,” Mamma Rowan instructed, placing her left hand on my knee and curling her right hand around my ankle.

I did as she said; my leg felt fine! As if it had never been broken in the first place! The cuts and scrapes and cracked ribs from Mathew’s brutal attack on me were hardly there anymore, just yellowing scabs and bruises now.

Everything felt normal and right where it should be.

A shrill jingling sound zipped through the air and I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket to check it. But no one was calling me.

My mom pulled her own cell phone out of her hand bag that sat at her feet and stared at the caller ID for a long moment with a scrutinizing look.

“I have to take this,” she told us.