Damien paced back and forth in his room at the mansion. Their pack was the wealthiest one this side of the hemisphere, if not the world, and they couldn't fucking get their hands on fucking heat suppressants.
He ran his fingers through his short black hair as if he were trying to soothe the wolf inside of him.
Spoiler alert: it wasn't working.
"Fuck!" he growled, picking up a lamp and hurtling it across the room. Not even the sound of it shattering made him feel better.
Fighting back another growl, he felt his phone buzzing in his pocket. Not bothering to check the ID, he answered: "What the fuck do you want?" he growled, sounding more wolf than human.
There was silence on the other end.
Taking the phone away from his ear, he checked the caller.
"Ah, fuck. I am so sorry, Sweetie," he rumbled, forcing his wolf down even more. His wolf went voluntarily, not wanting to upset the caller any more than the man was. "Forgive me?"
"Of course, Silly. You didn't do anything wrong," came the soft voice through the phone, and Damien felt himself calming down. She always managed to do that to him.
"I shouldn't have snapped at you," he said, not willing to be forgiven so easily. She was so much of an angel that she would forgive anyone anything.
"Seriously, it's okay." He could hear her smile through the phone before there was a wave of racking coughs.
"Do you have a cold? Is there anything you need? What's your heart rate at? Do you need your medication?" The more he spoke, the more anxious he got.
"Seriously, chill," came the voice after a moment. "Just a cough. I was drinking, and the water went down the wrong hole. I am fine."
Damien resumed his pacing as he held the phone to his ear, his wolf poking his head up enough to be able to hear all of the subtitles in her voice that the human couldn't make out. He could hear her wheezing as she continued to try and calm herself down after that attack.
"Is it true?" she asked after a second.
"Is what true?" asked Damien, not really hearing her words. He was more worried about her lungs and heart.
"That there are no more suppressants for the pack?" came the soft question. Damien could hear the fear in her voice as she asked the question.
"No," he assured her even though they both could hear the lie. "I will make sure you have the suppressants for the next few months. You will not do without."
"It's okay if you can't get them. You know that right?" came the voice on the other end of the phone. But her tone and words made Damien want to kill someone. Namely, whoever made the decision to cancel the contract between the pack and A.M.K.
"I will get them," he growled low. Or at least as low as he dared with the woman. "I promise you."
There was a long pause on the other end, and Damien froze, waiting to hear what she would say.
"There are rumors," she started hesitantly.
"There are always rumors," answered Damien, forcing a light tone.
"There is a dealer we can go to," she continued before pausing again.
"I am not going to trust a dealer with your suppressants. Hospitals have to have them available. I'll go there. The pack owns at least two of them; I am sure I can get my hands on what you need."
"You don't understand; I have a friend who will only go to him for her suppressants. He doesn't charge anything for them, and they are straight from A.M.K," she insisted, and Damien could hear her starting to get stressed.
"Sweetie, everyone says that their drugs are straight from A.M.K, but I can assure you, if they are free then they aren't heat suppressants. The dealer is—" Damien stopped talking, not wanting to expose the girl to the horrors of the world.
"You don't listen," sighed the woman. "The pills are stamped; they are in the actual packaging from A.M.K with serial numbers and everything. But the dealer is picky who gets them."
Damien's wolf sat up at that. "What do you mean?"
"He won't give them to just anyone. You know what? Never mind. I'll see if my friend can get me some when she goes next," sighed the girl. "I'm going to go take a nap. I'll talk to you soon, okay?"
"Of course, Sweetie. Whatever you need," murmured Damien, but his mind was going a hundred miles an hour. Who was this dealer? Where did he get his product?
"Oh, and big brother?"
"Yes, little sister," smiled Damien.
"Love you."
"Love you, too, Sweetie. Now get a good nap, and I'll call you soon, okay?"
"Okay."
There was a click as the phone disconnected, leaving Damien alone with his thoughts.
Frustrated, he spun around and left his room.
The pack had taken care of every dealer out there; how could there be someone else flying below the radar? And he was picky about who he sold to? That was nothing short of bullshit.
Money was money, no dealer would turn it away.
But what bothered him the most was the sound of resignation in his sister's voice when he shot down her idea of going to the dealer for her suppressants.
Damien slowly walked down the stairs to the main floor, his hand in his pocket as he walked toward the front door. "I'm going out," he called out. There was no one around, but there was always someone listening.
Plus, if someone really needed him, they could always call.
Getting into the SUV parked out front, he started the engine and took off.
-----
"Hi! Welcome to Scotty's Diner! Have a seat anywhere, and I'll be right there," came a cheerful voice as Damien opened the door to the old diner.
He had no idea why his wolf wanted to be here so badly, but after an hour of driving around and passing by this place five times, he decided to give his wolf what it wanted.
Maybe that way, it would stop clawing at his insides.