Alpha's Spoiled Princess - Burgov Series VI

20. Sean

Cilia disappeared inside the palace walls, but not before she glanced one last time at where she thought I was hidden among the trees. This morning's escapade hadn't gone exactly how I planned it. I wasn't supposed to run her over and hurt her head, but even that brought some highlights.

I smiled to myself, recalling her soft body beneath mine and how good it felt to have her in my arms again. She probably does not even realize how hard it was for me to restrain myself from ravishing her completely, but that damn tournament stayed somewhere in the back of my head.

I have no doubt that we are it, made for one another, two pieces of a whole. But what if I end up losing her because of another slip like the one with the damn diamonds? That would be a bad outcome on its own, but what if a moment of lapse in judgment would lead to her getting pregnant? That would be like reliving my own youth from my father's perspective, with the difference that my pup would be on another continent or would never really know his or her mother.

My hands balled involuntarily thinking about that. I don't need to worry about my hypothetical pup now, but the prospect of losing Cilia for good taste just as acidly in my mouth.

Yes, I need to do everything to secure her in my life.

After hastily dressing in the sweats I left on the front porch, I entered Burgov's home buried deep in my thoughts, which turned out to be a big mistake, especially when I was forced to abruptly halt in my tracks, as I was passing the kitchen. My eyes grew wide at the four people sitting with what I could only assume were mugs of coffee and accusingly stares pointed at me.

"Look who decided to show up. The fruit of my loins, the current Alpha Maslow, the responsible one, who chose to rebel in his late twenties." - my Father's mocking tone washed me with guilt and made the blood drain from my face.

I glanced from him, to Cynthia, sitting on his right with a small, reassuring smile, then to my Mom, who looked almost sick from worry, and finally to Vanya, and he looked pissed and ready to launch at me if it wasn't for my mother's hand holding his.

I swallowed hard and took a tentative step inside the kitchen, where I noticed Anya and Dean standing silently by the counter. My sister smiled sheepishly and gathered a cup of steaming coffee from the counter and stepped towards me to hand it to me.

"That's the change of conditions I was talking about yesterday." - she whispered, so that no one aside from me heard her.

"You couldn't have warned me?" - I murmured accusingly, scowling down at her.

"And give you time to prepare?" - she asked teasingly. - "No, brother, you need your lesson and a bit of squirming." - she added with sadistic satisfaction.

I took the coffee from her hands, briefly glancing at Dean, who simply shrugged as if saying he had no idea about the parents coming over. I released a breath, preparing myself for the worst and I went to the table that they were all sitting around.

"Mom." - I said, leaning down and kissing her cheek. - "Cynthia." - I repeated the greeting with my father's mate. - "Dad." - I nodded at my father, and then turned to the second man who raised me. - "Vanya."

Of the four of them, only Cynthia was smiling at me. She was always nice to me, but she never tried taking the role of my second mother. She settled for being an older friend, who created opportunities for me to grab an additional dessert when I was younger or to sneak out of the house when I was older. She was distracting my father when he was too stern or wanted to have things his way and his way only, and I valued her for this more than she probably knew.

The other three looked concerned, or angry, or both, depending on who I was looking at.

"So, is there a good enough reason why we learned about you finding, then losing, then joining the competition for your Mate's hand from a third or even fourth party?" - my father asked, narrowing his brown eyes on me.

"Who told you?" - I asked instinctively, but as soon as the words left my lips I knew it was a bad move, because my father's eyes turned into slits and his nostrils flared.

"The question is, why haven't you told us?" - he gritted through his teeth.

I looked down in shame, feeling like a scolded fifteen-year-old.

"Oh stop it, Arthur." - my mother hissed at him and I heard her chair scrapping on the floor and soon she came into view and hugged me. - "What happened, baby?" - she asked much more softly.

"It's a long story, Mom." - I said, looking into her green eyes.

"We've got time." - she said with a smile.

My mother was never the one to pester or nag you to do or say anything, but as every parent she got occasionally concerned about her children's wellbeing and then she wouldn't budge before she got to the bottom of the matter. Just like now.

I sighed and joined them at the small breakfast table, that ad I'd been told, was left in this home ever since Vanya's mother bought it, and I told them a very PG appropriate version of what went down with Cilia and I.

I explained how this whole tournament was an aftermath of one big misunderstanding and how I want to win it even if Cilia's decision would be to go our separate ways. The four of them listened to me intently, from time to time glaring at Dean and Anya, who couldn't refrain themselves from snickering and mocking comments at the situation I found myself in. But when I was done with the story, I honestly felt better, lighter, with all my closest people knowing the truth, especially when their initial anger seemed to subsidize, at least a little.

"So let me get this straight," - my father began - "You have to fight for your mate, because you hurt her feelings and now you lost one point, so it's basically your last chance before she ends up with someone else?"

When he put it that way, it sounded as if I were in deep s**t, which I hoped I was not, but it wasn't untrue, so I nodded.

Cynthia and my mother exchanged looks, but remained silent. My father crossed his arms and signed, but when I looked at Vanya he had that strange mixture of range and worry in his eyes, like when Dean scratched his car without having a license and my step-father didn't know whether to be glad he was alive or to end him for such stupid ideas.

"Why haven't you told me anything?" - he asked, speaking for the first time.

"You? Why should he say anything to you?" - my Dad countered, making Vanya narrow his eyes on him.

"Because I know more about Orlov women, being raised by one and growing up alongside the other." - Vanya said sternly.

"You forgot about your own daughter." - my Dad snickered, pointing his chin towards Anya.

"My daughter isn't as troublesome as the others, she took after her mother." - Vanya said affectionately, smiling at Anya, who once again had that innocent smile on her face. Little traitor.

"Yeah right, so we thought about this one." - Dad said, pointing at me. - "And look where it brought us. I was supposed to be on Caiman Island."

"Which is boring as hell." - Cynthia said, rolling her eyes and stopping two men's banter.

Vanya looked at me again with his deep gray eyes that both my siblings got after him, and I knew he was waiting for an answer.

"I don't know." - I admitted hanging my head low. - "I guess I just wanted to have everything sorted out before telling you that I found my mate in your niece and all my cousins' cousins."

"You were worried about what people would think, weren't you?" - Vanya asked, a bit softer.

"Yeah." - I admitted.

"And what do you think?"

I locked eyes with him, and as if he knew by just that, he nodded.

"Well then, what's done is done, now we have to make sure you succeed." - Vanya said. - "Which one of you is staying in my old room?" - he asked then, glancing at my siblings.

"I am." - I said.

"Mind if I take something from there?"

"Not at all, if you want I can free it for you and Mom." - I offered.

"No, son, that won't be necessary." - Vanya shook his head with a soft smile - "We'll take advantage of my cousin's hospitality, or the lack of it, after I have a word with him. So shall we?" - he asked, pointing at the door, and I had a feeling the thing he wanted from his room was a private conversation with me, but out of the four of them, Vanya was the one least likely to nag me. Actually, he could offer some valuable insight, probably knowing more about the tournaments than the rest.

"Sure." - I agreed, standing up and we left the kitchen side by side, staying silent until we reached his old bedroom. But once the doors were closed behind us, he released a breath and looked less composed than before, an appearance he most likely kept for my Mother's sake.

"Where do you stand with my niece, Sean?" - he cut right through the chase.

"I don't think she knows it herself. She's very confused. Still a bit hurt, but she doesn't hate me as much as she did two days ago." - I said truthfully.

"Good. That's a good sign." - he said, pacing around the room with his hands on his hips. - "The Orlov women are stubborn creatures…"

"Trust me, I know." - I snorted with a smirk.

"I don't see anything funny in this situation, Sean. I'm still planning to draw the consequences of your lying and upsetting your mother, but after this is over." - he said sternly, making me feel like I was once again a misbehaved child, and so I lowered my head in shame.

Vanya had that effect on me. He never once raised his voice at me, yet he could put me into my place with one look or disapproving sentence. That's probably the effect of being the first male role model in my life. And I respected him too much to ever rebel. Maybe it was my way of thanking him for taking care of my mom and I when we had next to nothing, but he was the kind of man who would prove himself even if that wasn't the case.

"As I was saying, Orlov women are stubborn. They are stubborn when they don't want something, but they are even worse when they do. Like my mother standing up for her right to choose my father, like Sasha in searching for a way to save Benson's life, Cilia is the same. The moment she shows you her mind is set, you can feel like a winner, so my advice is to focus on her. Get to know her better, because I know for a fact she is nothing like she shows on the outside."

"What do you mean?" - I asked, looking back at him with interest.

"You have to understand that she grew up in a hostile environment…"

"A palace with golden knobs doesn't seem like a hostile environment." - I chimed in.

Vanya looked at me disapprovingly and I wasn't sure whether it was because I cut him off again or because he was disappointed I hadn't seen the correct answer right away.

"How many of her friends do you know or how many did she mention at all?" - he asked in a tone that said he was making a point.

I thought about it hard, and I frowned at the realization.

"Just Markella." - I said.

"And it doesn't surprise you? That the girl who grew up in this pack doesn't have any closer acquaintances here?" - I shrugged, non committedly. - "I can tell you how growing up in her went for my sister." - I nodded, actually intrigued - "She had no friends outside of her relatives and the Razins. She tried it a few times, but got burned each time. You see, others, when hearing about you being part of the Orlov family, start to think of you as a means to their goal. Yes, we are at the top of the food chain, but the pedestal is often cold and lonely. Sasha at least had us, Ilia, me and our parents, while Cilia didn't."

"What are you talking about? I saw her with her father, she's the epitome of Daddy's daughter." - I said pointedly, crossing my arms.

"Yes, on the rare occasions when Dmitry actually had time for her." - I knitted my eyebrows in confusion, and he waved his hand. - "I'm not saying my cousin or Sabine are bad parents, but do you know how big this pack is?"

"Nearly twenty-five thousand?"

"Over twenty-five thousand." - he corrected me. - "And how big is the Harvest Moon or the Lunar Tide?"

"Both are close to fifteen hundred." - I said, starting to see his point.

"That's right." - he nodded - "You lead the one, and you have a lot of responsibilities, don't you?" - I nodded again. Slowly. - "So how much time for his family and friends do you think has an Alpha with so many subjects? Not a lot, let me tell you that. Igor and Cilia were raised by an army of tutors, nannies and Omegas, despite Dmitry and Sabine's best intentions, but it was necessary. This pack and the Orlovs are the only things that keep the peace in the region. Without them, there would have been chaos in the whole Europe that soon after would most likely reach other continents. Being Alpha is always a duty, but being born Orlov makes it that much harder."

I never thought of it this way. Maybe I was too blind or too stupid to come to this conclusion, but all I saw throughout our childhood was Igor's self-satisfied smirk, or Cilia's care about her appearance. But the poses they mastered were deceptive.

"Everyone has their own baggage and problems, Sean. And so does my Goddess-daughter. She's the fragile one and she could never find a place for herself in this place, but she knows her responsibilities and she always fulfills them with grace. Did you know she speaks like six or seven languages fluently and, in politics, could give a run for the money even to an old dog like me?" - he said with a fond and somewhat proud smile.

"Why are you telling me this?" - I asked suspiciously, being sure he was circling around the point.

"Because I don't think you know what she's hiding under her facade. She's not a prize or your possession because of the bond you share, she won't choose you simply because of that. You have to show her you're truly her best option."

"And I'm not right now?" - I asked.

"Let's be honest, son, you're Alpha of a small foreign pack. Strategically speaking, you're the worst option she has. The only thing you can offer Cilia is to change her life for the better, which I know she wants. But if you won't assure her it will be a happy life and won't push her to make a choice with her heart, she'll choose the most reasonable option with her head."

"Which is?" - I asked, balling my fists at the idea she could even consider someone other than me.

"Right now I would have to say the Norwegian Alpha, his pack is big and geographically closest to Dark Woods, but I would have to speak with the man to know for sure." - Vanya admitted, and I turned away from him to lean my fists on the windowsill to hide my anger at this idea. - "The only way you could leave here with the girl is by winning her heart, and Cilia will see right through you if you lie. That's all I wanted to tell you." - he said, and a moment later I heard the door opening and closing, announcing he had left me to think about his words.

And I did. I thought long and hard about where we are now. About the moment we shared this morning in the woods. And about how good my chances were.

Cilia was definitely softening to the idea of us again, but there was no solid declaration placed, so I can't be sure of anything. She may as well treat our small tryst as a closure, goodbye to the mate and life she's leaving behind.

I told her to give me the sign if she wanted me to go, but to be honest, I didn't want to go. I want her to choose me, to want me just as I want her. But does she even know how much I want her?

I pondered on Vanya's words all through the morning. When I was in the shower, then when I was getting ready for the second task, and the only conclusion I came up with was trusting Cilia. She can make or break me in this tournament. She's the one in full control of the situation, so I have to sit and wait for the task and find out if that's even something within the scope of my abilities.

That's a rather painful realization, when nothing depends on you. Especially something as big as the rest of your life.

My cousins and I left Burgov's home less cheerfully than yesterday. They must've sensed my anguish and were thoughtful enough to not gaslight my internal whirlwind even more.

For some reason, I was dreading the nosy arena today, and when I separated with my team of supporters it felt final, as if the realization that this could be the last time I entered this place had finally settled in my head. The rules of the tournament were quite simple, only the best wins, which means that if I lose a second task and any of my rivals with a point behind his belt scores another point, I'll lose Cilia for good.

I was once again led to the preparation room, this time being the second who arrived, after the boring Austrian, who only scowled at me in greeting. Guess someone was a sore loser, after I cut off his boring conversation at yesterday's dinner. But I frowned when beside him there was a team of guards with special gear for us.

One of Orlov's men approached me as soon as he saw me, speaking broken English.

"Put this on." - he said, handing me what looked like a half vest, with black patches of stretchy fabric on the front and back with a rubber criss-cross holding it together.

I inspected it closer and noticed that in the middle of the black material was a small camera on both front and back. I glanced questioningly at the guard, because there were a million possibilities why they would want us to wear recording devices, but the most obvious one was because we would be leaving the arena.

That could be a good thing given that, from all the contestants, I know the layout of the land the best, being a frequent guest here in the past. I was never more grateful to Vanya for dragging me to those pompous family gatherings than I was now. Who knows, maybe my previous experiences would save me this time.

Another fifteen minutes had passed and both Enberg and Galloway joined us and were given the exact same vests to put on before all four of us were led outside into the blinding light of the daylight. Guards instructed us to take places right below the balcony from which Cilia would give us instructions for the next task.

I glanced up and noticed Vanya standing next to Dmitry, surprisingly not quarreling with him. He smiled at me and nodded as if saying you've got this, and I felt even more confident, but that's what lost me the last time.

The crowd started clapping when, in the center of the balcony, in front of the microphone, appeared Cilia. She looked stunning, with her shoulders bare and a long red gown hugging her amazing figure. Her lips matched the color of the dress, but her hair was left in those wild waves I loved to trace my fingers through when there were just the two of us in my bedroom.

She knew perfectly well how I liked her like that, but wouldn't it be too cocky to see it as the sign of a favor from her side? Yeah, it probably would.

"Welcome back to the second day of the tournament." - she started with a smile, making an entire arena boom with cheers. - "Yesterday I was checking if our contestants could see the value of things, finding the one gem that was worth the most. Today, I would like to check another aspect, joining two of my interests: history and physical strength." - she smiled down at all the contestants, but when our eyes locked, her smile felt more genuine. Was I once again seeing things that weren't there?

"Not many of you know it, but sixty years ago, Alphas from the Orlov family resided on a different estate, that, because of poor planning, turned into ruin when the hill it was built on turned into a landslide and collapsed to the lake below. The then Pack House was swallowed by the water, and now is part of one of the most dangerous training courses where our fierce warriors practice."

And the one we visited often as kids. Yes, that was definitely a sign of her favor. Cilia knew that all the guys, me included, were going to play in those sunken ruins more than once, and with that she was giving me the advantage I needed.

"Your task for today, gentlemen, is to complete the course. It would require speed on the forest part, an ability to remain calm in cold water and, more than once, quick thinking. The devices you are equipped with will allow us to see your progress and, in case of need, hurry to your aid. I wish you good fortune. The guards will escort you to the starting point. Let the best man win." - she said, and once again, it felt like she was speaking directly to me, even though she probably wasn't. But at least with this task she was giving me something more valuable than a fleeting glance. A hope that I can do it, and this time I'm not going to screw up.