Prologue
Jackson slouches over the granite countertop in his mother's kitchen, a slouch that only lasts about five seconds before his father starts to stare fixedly at the boy's back, forcing Jackson to sit up straight. That's the Whittemore family for you, perfect- from the amount of gossip spread at their expense in Beacon Hills to the arc in their son's back. There is absolutely no room for error in this family, a burden Jackson's had to experience, he presumes, from the day he was released out of the adoption agency's clutches and into the arms of loving people who stand before him.
Hopefully, his new sister won't have to go through this kind of crap. Actually, maybe it's best if she did. That way, Jackson could actually feel like he's worthy of their undying love, not just some burden on their existence.
Jackson, even though he seems so composed- what with his image of complete and consistent assholery to everyone (well except for his best and most trusted friend, Danny)- doesn't exactly know just how to take this whole new-sister thing. He's been an only child all his life and now is when his parents decide to adopt a new kid? He doesn't know what he feels-anger, betrayal, no maybe not betrayal, maybe even a spark of excitement. Whatever this new feeling is, it's really weird and completely different from any thing he's ever had to deal with before. All this thinking about the new kid is starting to make him actually go numb, so he decides to free himself of the walls he's managed to build around him-just this once.
"When is she supposed to get here?" Jackson asks for what must be the third time today.
His mother breaks away from her adoptive son's eager glare and makes her way to the newly stocked fridge, her hands finally still when she find the sac of oranges. The agency said Ira liked oranges. That was her name- Ira. When she'd first heard it, she'd been so overwhelmed with joy that she thought she'd brought a smile- a true, heart-warming smile- onto Jackson's face. It was a beautiful name; a name fit for the beautiful daughter she'd soon welcome into her home. Everything about this new daughter was so beautiful to her.
Once again in front of her son, she peels the oranges with a careful precision that makes everyone, even her husband, marvel in the swift motions of her pale fingers. "She should be here before dark. A few hours, maybe more."
The uncertainty in his mother's voice is so strange that Jackson just sits there, baffled. Did he hear the right words? His mother and father have always been punctual. Punctual, Composed, Perfect. Since when is she so content with not knowing the exact time at which the new arrival will, well, arrive?
Family moment or not, Jackson sure as hell wasn't going to sit there for a couple of hours waiting for this new girl to get here. As far as he was concerned, she wasn't his sister yet.
With his backpack strapped firmly on his broad shoulders and his phone already buzzing, he sets out for the long, narrowing path that leads the woods. It's about time he pay the new Alpha a little visit.