In the arms of no one (Completed)

Chapter 9.

Tiernan's POV

The first thing I hear is birds. Loud, happy, ridiculously cheerful birds.

I groan and pull the blanket over my head, trying to block out the sunlight spilling through my curtains. Why do mornings always have to exist?

That'll teach me for staying over at Vallon's place with the guys so late. The others wanted to head out to our spot in the forest before midnight, like we always do — the one place no one else knows about — but honestly? I just wanted to stay a little longer.

To stay around her a little longer.

The excuse came out easily enough — "Let's bring in my birthday with junk food and another movie." I even added a grin for good measure. The guys bought it, I think. I hope. Because the truth was, sitting there beside Vallon, the glow from the TV lighting up her face, her laughter wrapping around me like something warm and dangerous — that was the best part of my night.

Not the forest. Not the secrets. Not even the thrill of being the future Alpha.

Just her.

I shift under the blanket, half-smiling at the memory — her hand brushing mine when she passed the chips, the small spark that made my pulse trip. The kind of spark that's supposed to mean something.

But if it's supposed to mean something, why does it feel like something's missing?

I sigh and roll over, deciding that maybe I deserve a sleep-in. I'm right on the edge of drifting back off when my door slams open so hard it rattles.

"WAKE UUUUUP!"

I jolt upright just in time for a blur of brown hair and chaos to tackle me straight back onto the bed. Something heavy lands on my stomach and starts bouncing.

"Happy birthday you pooooh—"

"Oh, no," I groan, bracing for impact.

"Happy birthday you pooh!" she keeps going, her voice sharp and way too high-pitched for human ears. "Happy birthday dear Tiernan smelly tinkle paaaants! You're so ugly your mate won't love yoooou!"

She's laughing so hard she can barely finish the song.

My blood boils.

"Tinkle pants?" I roar. "KARA! That was ONE TIME—and I was SIX!"

She's practically crying with laughter now, clutching her stomach while rolling halfway off my bed. "You should've seen your face!"

I shove her off fully this time, and she lands on the floor with an oomph. "You are the literal worst sister on planet Earth."

She grins up at me, unbothered. "And yet, still your favorite."

"Not today," I mutter darkly.

That damn nickname. I can still hear the laughter echoing in the classroom that day, Tori Millar's smug grin as she shouted it for everyone to hear. The humiliation. The heat crawling up my neck as my classmates whispered. I swore back then I'd never let anyone make me feel that small again.

And I didn't. Not once I learned to fight. Not once I learned to lead.

I stretch, pushing off the blanket, and glare down at my sister. "It's my birthday. You're supposed to be nice to me, remember?"

She snorts. "Yeah, well, it was Christmas before it was your birthday, so I win, jerkface."

"Oh yeah? Prove it."

"Already did."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"YES!"

"Kara—"

"MOM! Tinkle Pants is trying to Alpha-command me! And he said the F-word!"

"Kara, shut up! Would you shut the—"

"Tiernan Kade McKenzie!"

Every muscle in my body freezes.

Mom's standing in the doorway, hands on her hips, eyes blazing. Blonde hair all over the place — she must've just rolled out of bed — and that expression that could make grown wolves cry.

"Did you just swear at your sister?" she asks in that deadly calm tone.

"I—uh—technically—"

"Don't even think about lying," she says, voice sharp enough to cut glass. "I heard you."

I sigh. "Then why'd you ask?"

Inside my head, Titus, my wolf, stirs sleepily. She's a woman, he mutters, sounding half-asleep. They ask questions they already know the answers to. It's a trap.

"Not helping," I whisper.

Mom arches an eyebrow. "What was that?"

"Nothing! I said nothing." I raise my hands in surrender. "Yeah, I swore. I admit it. I'm sorry."

She blinks, surprised. "Well... okay. That was easy."

"But," I continue, leaning forward dramatically, "I have a question."

She narrows her eyes, wary now. "What is it?"

I clear my throat and, in my best sing-song imitation of Kara, belt out:

"🎶Happy birthday you pooh, happy birthday you pooh, happy birthday dear Tiernan smelly tinkle pants, you're so ugly your mate won't love you!🎶"

I stop, looking heartbreakingly tragic. "Is it true, Mom? Will my mate not love me?"

For a second, silence. Then my mom's gaze snaps toward Kara, who's now backing up slowly, eyes wide.

"Uh oh," I whisper, trying not to grin.

"Karameli Josephine McKenzie!" Mom roars.

Kara screams and bolts. "You'll never take me alive!"

Mom lunges after her, and they both disappear into the hallway, leaving me laughing so hard I can barely breathe.

When Mom comes back a few minutes later, she's smiling again, shaking her head. "You two are impossible," she says, walking over to me. She leans down and presses a kiss to my forehead. "Merry Christmas, son."

And just like that, she's gone.

No happy birthday.

Figures.

I flop back on my bed, staring at the ceiling. The house has gone quiet again except for faint laughter from the kitchen. And even though I know it's dumb, something in my chest feels heavy — like I'm both here and not here.

Everyone sees the Alpha-in-the-making, the strong one, the future leader. No one sees the guy who just wants to feel seen sometimes.

I blow out a breath and run a hand through my hair.

It's fine. I don't need a big deal made out of it. Birthdays are just days, right? And besides, there's still one thing worth looking forward to.

Her.

Bianca.

My girlfriend. The one I love. The one I'm loyal to. The one who's supposed to be my everything.

Her fiery red hair. Her confident smile. The way she says my name like she already knows the kind of man I'll be one day.

And yet... when I close my eyes, all I can see is someone else.

Blue-black hair. Eyes like the forests on a cool winters day. All mystery and adventure

And my heart—stupid, disobedient heart—won't stop pounding.