Alpha's Spoiled Princess - Burgov Series VI

2. Sean

"So if you could gently push her to come back home, I would appreciate it."

I sighed, knowing exactly what Igor had in mind by 'gently pushing her'. To be honest, I didn't want to push her in any way. Her sole visit irks me, and if I only could, I would bail on the entire questioning pleasure. But I can't, since I'm the host. And telling Nicky or Igor She wasn't welcome would be too rude.

"I'm not going to order her s**t, if that's what you're asking for." - I said in a bored tone.

"Ha, you couldn't order my sister if you wanted, Maslow." - he chuckled - "But you were never like the rest, ready to smother her. She's the Orlov, she should be here and her defiance doesn't make me look good."

"Really? And do you really care about what people think?"

He chuckled with amusement, which, sadly, I was lacking.

"You got me there, my friend." - Igor admitted - "But seriously, if you manage to persuade her, it would be highly appreciated."

"Have you tried asking her?" - I suggested.

"My sister doesn't talk to me."

Of course she doesn't.

I sighed, ready to give him what he wanted just to simply get this phone call over with.

"Fine. If she listens, I tell her she should go back to the Dark Woods. But don't hold your breath, you know your sister doesn't hold my opinion in high esteem." - I said with resignation.

"Yours and mine both, brother." - Igor chuckled - "Alright, I'm off, Letitia is waiting for me."

"Okay. Say hi to the Missus."

"I will. Take care." - he said, disconnecting, and I rubbed my face from the lack of a better thing to do.

Cilia Orlov.

How many years has it been? Five? Six? Not that I missed seeing her. On the contrary, those were probably the best years ever. But I guess I can suck it up for two or three days. She probably won't even be seeking my company, in which we at least have an understanding.

Maybe I could even keep her busy enough so she won't come in the way. Besides, what am I even going to talk with her about? Dresses and shoes? I don't think so.

In times like this, I wish Dad and Cynthia were here. Cynthia would know exactly what to do with a high-maintenance girl, like Cilia.

Girl…

I guess she might not be a girl anymore. What is she, twenty-three, twenty-four now? Not that I expect much has changed since the last time I saw her. People usually don't change, but exacerbate their flaws.

And Cilia has a lot of those. The teenager I remember was obsessed with her looks, seeking affirmation wherever she could. She was unhappy, unless she was the center of attention. And to top it all, she flaunted her father's wealth right and left, as if it made her special. Special would be if she had worked a day in her life and actually earned the worth of her overpriced shoes.

Her brother isn't much better, but at least his obnoxious attitude isn't that painful when you see an actual competent leader behind it. He has a good strategic mind, a knack for numbers and undeniable strength. And unlike Orson, I don't think he was actually all that wrong by cutting her off.

But that's just for a short while. I'll be fine. I just need to keep my thoughts to myself and everything will be okay.

"Knock, knock." - Lana appeared in the doorway with a big smile on her face. It was good seeing her like that. I wasn't sure if the shaken-up girl my cousin, Ellie, brought here would learn to once again enjoy her life, but she did. And she proved time and time again how good of a Beta female she was.

"Hey you." - I nodded, acknowledging her, and Lana read it as an invitation to join me in my fortress of solitude. Not many did that. Corry and Jackson never complained, but I know that most of my people don't exactly see me as the kind of a leader they could pop to for a cup of tea with.

But Lana did. I guess we could even state we've become friendly over the months. I felt protective of her, and she apparently needed a strong support system that she thankfully found here.

She sat across from me and watched me for a second, before she smiled and shook her face.

"Corry told me we'd have a guest." - she started, and I knew she was fishing for details. But I was never the one to say too much. I guess in this case I always believed that less is more.

"That's right." - I nodded.

"And that's your cousin."

"She's not my cousin." - I said sharply and my tone had Lana arching her brows in question. - "She's my step-father's family, so she's my brother's cousin, not mine."

"Okay." - Lana said slowly, making those damn big doe eyes that women do when they're perplexed. It's like the missing link in the evolution of mankind had something to do with the wild game. - "I'm sorry, I'm just confused, but isn't that also the rule to the others you so proudly call your family, like Orson, or even Ellie?"

Shit, she had me there.

How can I possibly explain that I would proudly admit to my relationship with Burgovs or VenWoerts, that exists simply because my mother, after having me, found her mate in Vanya, eldest of the Burgov siblings, and not pose for an asshole? I guess that's not possible. Besides, had Vanya heard I didn't consider his family my own, he would have been heartbroken. And that man, even though he isn't the one who fathered me, gave me the life I know now. He would be greatly disappointed to hear I'm choosing who to consider my family and who not.

"Fine. You're right. I guess she is a family." - I admitted with great effort and resignation.

Lana kept on staring at me, assessing and thinking about what to say. She was one of those women who surprisingly thought twice about everything they wanted to say. But I guess her hast and irrational decisions from the past, and the aftermath of those taught her a thing or two, and I'm glad they did, because there's nothing that irks me more than someone speaking just to fill the silence.

"May I be frank, Alpha?" - she asked after a while of assessing.

"You may."

"You don't look very fond of the idea of our guest, so is it possible there's some history between you two?" - she asked.

"No, there's absolutely no history. She's just…" - my voice trailed off, thinking why exactly Cilia was playing on my nerves so much.

We never had any open argument, never really considered one another friendly. Throughout our childhood, whenever the Orlovs visited, or on the rare occasions we went to Dark Woods, she hung out more with Uliana and Ellie and we rarely interacted with one another. So I guess it's more about her personality. The superiority she spread around herself and, at the same time, a total lack of appreciation for anything. She was one of those girls who were born with a silver spoon in their mouth, and yet still found a reason to grimace. But if she had taken all her wealth, status and pretty things away for even a day, she might understand that life isn't about what you have. That's why I believe Igor is doing her a favor in the long haul. She might not see it now, but she will one day. It takes not having anything to understand the real value of possession and people who surround us.

"She's just entitled." - I finished my thought.

"She is? And when have you seen her last?" - Lana asked, intertwining her slim hands on her lap.

"A few years back." - I said off-handedly with a shrug.

"I see." - she muttered - "So maybe it's completely unreasonable for me to think that, but perhaps the woman coming in here is no longer the girl you knew?" - I arched my brow having a feeling she was softening me before reaching her point. - "Well, look at me. I'm certainly not the same as I was a year ago. So, maybe give her a benefit of the doubt? People can sometimes surprise you, Sean."

"Rarely in a good way." - I grumbled, but that only caused her to c**k her head to the side with a displeased purse of her lips. - "Fine. You're right. Let's see the monster first before we decide how to fight with it." - I said with a lopsided smile that Lana hadn't appreciated.

"I'm gonna ignore you'd just compared a young woman to a monster."

"How gracious of you." - I bowed my head.

Lana watched me for a while from under raised brows, most likely deciding if engaging herself in a further dispute would be futile. And I guess she decided it would be not, because she sighed with the tiniest shake of her head before speaking again.

"I'm gonna prepare a room on the first floor." - I nodded, appreciating how she thought of locating Cilia on the other side of the house from me. - "And do you think she would like some pampering time, while she's here?"

"Knowing Cilia papering is all she does, so yes, I believe she would." - I commented, but Lana chose to ignore that small dig.

"Right, so I'm gonna book an appointment at the salon, and because you're my favorite Alpha, I will take care of her during her first day here. The rest is on you, okay?"

"That's fine." - I agreed - "And by the way, you're my favorite Beta female too."

She c****d her head with a playful smile.

"Isn't one of your not-cousins a Beta female in Harvest Moon?" - she asked with a sass.

"I see the therapy is going well." - I deadpanned with an unamused face. But Lana only giggled, and brushed her long blonde strands at the back of her head.

"Ellie was absolutely right that it's fun to ruffle your feathers." - she admitted.

"You've been talking with my cousin again?" - I asked.

"Yes. She and Devina wanted me to give a speech during the next banquet of Ellie's foundation. They thought that the story of a true survivor might help people believe in the cause." - she admitted somehow sheepishly, nervously tapping her fingers over her leg.

"And you're gonna do it? You know you don't have to."

"I know. And I don't feel like I'm ready yet. But hopefully soon I will be." - she locked her eyes with me, and behind her blue irises was a bit of fear, but also determination. - "Girls like me should know that not only sticks and stones may break their bones, but that poison sipping into their ears too."

I nodded, not exactly sure what to say to that.

My Beta female has a history that she's not very proud of, although I'm not sure why, everything she did was under the influence of her power-hungry father. But she ended up in my home under rather peculiar circumstances: unconscious, after attacking her future Luna, aka my cousin with whom she's now talking like they were BFFs.

Since then, I have watched her trying hard to work against all her natural instincts. I watched my Beta, Corry, peeling her insecurities one layer after the other. And finally, I watched her become more confident and reasonable with every new day and session with a therapist. It took a lot of effort to get her where she is now, and the road is not over yet.

"Just remember that you shouldn't rush things. If it could take you back a few steps in your recovery, it's more than okay to postpone it. Small steps will take you to the finish line faster than jumping back and forth." - I said and Lana nodded with a small smile.

"You're a good guy, Sean. You should let others see that sometimes." - she said, standing up, and since receiving praise was never my strong suit, I went to soften the moment with a joke.

"Then I wouldn't be able to keep the attention off me, and you know I'm not exactly a social butterfly."

She snorted, agreeing with a nod.

"Okay, butterfly, I'm off to instruct Omegas about the room." - she said, going for the door, but she stopped in the doorway and glanced at me. - "Maybe try being more understanding towards her, like you are with me." - she suggested.

"I'll keep that in mind." - I said with a smile and, satisfied with my answer, Lana disappeared around the corner.

I closed my eyes and sighed, got up and poured myself a drink, taking my favorite spot by the window to enjoy the burning sensation spreading through my throat.

Why am I that irritated by this visit?

Lana may be right and little miss Orlov could no longer be that self-centered girl I remember, so it's probably more about what she represents.

Orlovs are, for lack of better words, bullies. They do what they want, speak what they want with absolutely no consequences. And it's not that anyone can stop them. Being at the top of a food chain makes you quite cocky, I suppose.

They are loud, obnoxious, and convinced of their superiority. Everything I hate.

They aren't bad people, but also not my cup of tea. I remember too well what it's like to live with no money. I remember the fear of going up the stairs to our small, cramped apartment, looking over my shoulder if one of the shady neighbors wasn't following me to steal the little that we had. I remember having just my mom and aunt and counting only on ourselves. And all those memories taught me that if you take away money, designer clothes and fame, only then do you see a real person.

That's why I was always so fond of Orson. Sure, he was a rebel throughout all the twenty years I've known him. But he's the kind of guy who would jump into flames or take the blame for those he cares about.

That's why I found Nicky so interesting. A bit younger, a bit more on a silent note than his brother, but with the perceptiveness that many old wolves didn't have.

That's why I loved their sister, this ever nursing young woman. With the biggest heart and astonishing sensibility.

That's why Ellie and her brothers always make me laugh. The three most undisciplined pups this family has ever seen, with a trust in their own abilities solid as a rock. But under that roguish exterior laid a loyalty so fierce that it was sometimes scary.

My siblings weren't a choice, I had to love and look out for them. But even Dean and Anya have more to them than their last name. My brother was born under a lucky star. He has charisma, charm and undeniable strength, but under all this is the same heart of gold and care for others that Vanya has. And my sister, she was always the toughest one to read, but I learned to listen whenever she spoke, because somehow her words always exceeded her young age. Sometimes it feels like she just knows things others don't, and besides, she never took advantage of Alpha's daughter's position.

But with Orlovs it was never that easy. Maybe I was biased because I haven't come close to knowing them like I do the rest of the family, but from what I can tell, if they were deprived of their status and terrifying numbers they would be simply uninteresting. Plain and boring. Take them out of the palace they call home, and no one will know who they are.

And maybe that's having all the means in the world and not using them properly or drawing too much attention to themselves, or maybe that's smiling carelessness when the world is burning, but something with the twins never sat right with me.

However, Igor I can deal with. He was trained well, and he isn't stupid, even if occasionally he tries too hard to be nonchalant. We may not be the greatest of friends, but there is mutual respect at the very least.

But Cilia… She didn't have her brother's burden of becoming an Alpha, so she could be anything she would want to be. Yet, she chose a life of trinkets. A pretty, sparkling for everyone to see ornament that does absolutely nothing, aside from, of course, looking for another fool to sponsor her life when her brother no longer wants to. It's just very disappointing.

Not to mention that I don't need her coming in here and scrunching her nose at everything. The pack may yet be what I would like it to be, but it will. Gone would be the hideous applications my grandfather installed. Gone will be fake and distasteful decor that looks so out of place in the village like a golden tooth in a gypsy's mouth. I know my home is far from being what I would want it to be, but I prefer making adjustments step by step, than living in someone else's hand-downs basking in someone else's achievements.

I set the glass down, and decided I had enough of the paperwork for today and I went to the room next door, where I hope to soon be finished with my very own space.

The plastic wrap on the floor and the smell of fresh wood and polish in the air seems to always have a good effect on me. I hope to one day turn this room into my office, but for now it works perfectly fine as my workshop. It started small, like a project that was more of a test if I could even do it with my own two hands. But with time, when I found peace and quiet in sawing, carving, cutting, sanding and polishing, I started coming up with a new idea to fill my evenings.

And just like that, in three months I was a proud owner of a hand-made bookshelf, a big chest for blankets and stuff, a bit crooked coffee table, and now I'm working on my biggest project yet, the bed frame.

I didn't mind the one I own now, there's nothing wrong with it, but some primal part of me that is fuelled by pride and testosterone only finds it satisfying to sleep on something I build with my bare hands. It's not about showing off, because almost no one knows about my new hobby, but I like seeing the results.

With the Lunar Tide, it isn't just as fast. The changes and the final look of the village I have in mind would take years to achieve. But here, I see something new, and something worth being proud of each day. Not to mention, it clears one's mind quite nicely.

The early morning light started slipping through the plastic-covered window by the time I was done and I dragged myself upstairs. Maybe I overdid it, but at least I won't have to lie that I'm too tired to amuse Cilia.

Falling asleep was never an issue for me. Even when I was nothing but a kid, who heard his Mom sobbing through the paper-thin wall, I could do it. But back then I always promised myself to do whatever was in my power to make the next day better. That thought stuck with me throughout my life, and whether it was taking Dean and Anya out so that Mom and Vanya could have a break, or smiling at hard working Omega just so she knew she was appreciated, I tried doing it. I hate arguing and making a fuss. Life is hard as it is, why add even more attitude to it? Simplicity is what I crave for.

I'm not sure how long I slept, judging by the headache clouding my mind as soon as I was shoved awake, not for very long. But nevertheless, I smiled when I heard Nicky's voice taunting me awake.

"Wakey, wakey, big bad wolf. The sun is up, and if you don't get up I'm gonna punch you." - he sing-songed, making me chuckle with my eyes still closed.

"What time is it?" - I asked.

"Shortly past ten. And I can't believe you're still in bed. Have you been drinking your sorrows away at the news of Cilia coming to stay with you?"

I blinked and settled my glare on him. That's right, if he's here, then so is she.

"Don't be ridiculous." - I said, getting out of bed.

"Well, I don't know. She looked ready to jump out of a moving van just to avoid seeing you. I still don't get why you two hate each other so much?" - he looked at me assessingly, like Nicky likes to whenever he's looking for something.

"I wouldn't say hate." - I grumbled, putting a t-shirt on. - "We just never hit it off, I guess."

"Yeah right." - he scoffed - "You do realize which VanWoert you're talking to, right?"

He had a point there. Orson was more trusting, not exactly naive, but he didn't have a habit of questioning people. He simply came to the conclusion that when someone was ready, he or she would deliver the news. But Nicky didn't appreciate being left out of things. He wasn't a meddler or a gossip, but he liked to have all the facts in hand.

"That's irrelevant." - I said, keeping my face straight - "I assume that since you are here, Cilia is too?"

"That's right." - he nodded - "And may I add it was particularly shitty of you to not come greet her."

"Why? Because Miss Orlov needs the whole court to be present on her arrival." - I mocked.

"No, because you're the only one she knows here." - he deadpanned and I felt really shitty for my remark. That was uncalled for. - "Look, she's been helping me a great deal since she got to Stealth Death. She might be the only reason why Eve hasn't ripped my head off yet, so I'm gonna ask you just this once: Won't it be a problem for her to stay here?"

His question was a bit hurtful. I may not be part of her flock, that follows her around chanting praises and all that s**t. But I'm also not crude and I'm not going to launch World War Three just because I find her unnecessarily theatrical.

"No problem at all." - I said.

"Good. I would really like to find you both in one piece after I'm back."

So would I, buddy, so would I.

"Then let's not keep Lady Orlov waiting." - I said, making Nicky roll his eyes at my choice of words. Yeah, I should probably work on that.

Nicky and I went downstairs where, as he claimed, he left Cilia with Corry and Lana, my Beta couple, in the sitting room. As we approached, I heard giggles loud and clear, being somehow glad Lana was putting in such a great effort to entertain her. Who knows, maybe if they hit it off I will be off my duty for good.

But with every step we got closer, my wolf started stirring and acting strange, but I blamed it on the dislike of the situation we found ourselves in.

But as we turned the corner, it hit me. First the smell. It was definitely floral, a bit like magnolias but not quite like it, more rich, more sophisticated, nicer.

Then my eyes found her sitting on the sofa and smiling politely at Lana. She was definitely not the same girl I remember. Yes, she was pretty even then, but the woman in front of me was someone else. She still had the same dark thick hair that looked as if her hairdresser had just finished his work. She still had the same icy-blue eyes that pierced you through like sharp icicles, making people uncomfortable. And her skin was the same, soft and flawless olive tone that only made her contrasting eyes more prominent.

But everything else was different. She sat seemingly casually, with her hands clasped together, but you could tell the pose was not only a bit stiff but also perfectly schooled. She filled up quite generously in the areas her teenage self wasn't yet that advanced. Her gaze, even though pointed at Lana, seemed wary and withdrawn, almost as if she wasn't sure of herself. And lastly she seemed quieter, more guarded perhaps, as if she was expecting someone to attack her at any minute or like she was ready to run for the hills.

But the thing that stopped me in my tracks was the pull to just go to her, touch her, feel her. And that, combined with her scent and the quiet whining in the back of my head, was like a bucket of ice-cold water on my head.

Cilia Orlov was my mate.

She noticed, or maybe felt me, and she settled those damn piercing eyes on me, at first with her dark brows going up in shock, but then her rosy lips curled up in the faintest of smiles and her cheeks started tainting with a soft blush.

She felt it too.

Yet I couldn't bring myself to be happy about it. Because no matter what I do, my uncomplicated life suddenly stopped existing.