The last thing James "Jay" Hale ever imagined was to begrudgingly return to Beacon Hills, find out his older sister was murdered, and then be forced to go on a wild goose chase after an enigmatic Alpha that seemed to have a particular interest in ru...
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CHAPTER ONE: Stepping Back Into The Past
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"Wow, JB! The rumours were true, you really are back! Six years later and you still look—"
"If you touch me again I'll rip your fucking throat out."
The threat hung heavy in the air, a chilling silence following it. Every set of eyes in Beacon Hills High School's hallway was locked on the scene unfolding before them. Jackson Whittemore, the once-untouchable, found himself slammed face-first into a locker by the returning James Hale.
It was a dramatic entrance, to say the least, and one that had the entire school in shock. For years, rumours had swirled about the Hale siblings, shrouded in mystery after the tragic fire that claimed their family. Nobody knew where they'd gone or what become of them. So, the reappearance of James, now bearing an unmistakable air of danger, was nothing short of a spectacle.
Almost every person in Beacon Hills eagerly anticipated the boy's return ever since a grainy zoomed-in photo of him started circulating around town only hours before school started, taken by a curious senior as James was seen stocking up on water bottles and other bare necessities at a grocery store. The image had spread like wildfire, and if the local newspaper could have printed it without repercussions since it wasn't exactly news, they surely would have. The Hales had always been the town's biggest enigma. And if James was back, the baby of the family, it could only mean one thing. That all three of them were too.
However, no one expected this. Nobody predicted that the sweet, shy boy they once knew would return as a literal storm cloud, growling threats into the face of his former best friend Jackson Whittemore. To threaten him with, what was it? Ripping his throat out.
Now, that was definitely a curve ball.
"Holy shit," Stiles Stilinski and Scott McCall whispered in unison, their eyes glued to the tense scene as well. Jackson, asshole extraordinaire, seemed to actually be shaking with genuine fear beneath the Hale boy's unyielding grip. Were they about to witness a murder? The thought was disgusting, and Stiles would probably faint if there was any blood, but it would also be insanely cool and honestly what they'd been waiting for since sixth grade when Jackson's hellish reign first started.
When the Hale boy shifted behind Jackson, everyone watched on with bated breaths as if waiting for a full-on cage match to happen or something. But all he did was step back and turn Jackson around with a twisted grin playing on his lips.
"Oh, fuck, Jackson?" Jay's entire demeanour shifted abruptly enough to give everyone whiplash. "You really shouldn't sneak up on something like that. I might have killed you."
Jackson, still rumpled and cautious, blinked in surprise. "Um, sorry..." His hand gingerly touched his no-doubt bruised jaw.
Jay's grin persisted as he looked past Jackson to Danny, who appeared less alarmed but still very much taken aback. "Danny! Wow, you guys look so different," Jay exclaimed as if the previous altercation hadn't just occurred. He turned to look at everyone still watching at their lockers, "What?" He asked, eyebrow raised. He hated them all already. And just like that, the entire student body lowered their eyes and went back to what they were doing.
