The villainess

The night was silent, the kind of silence that lingered in the air like a promise yet to be broken. Caroline Lockwood stood on the balcony of her family's estate, the wind tugging at her dark, unbound hair. Below her, the Lockwood Manor sprawled out, a testament to her family's fading nobility. It was once a place of grandeur, but now, the walls seemed to whisper of forgotten glories and lost legacies.

She took a deep breath, closing her eyes as she inhaled the crisp night air. There was a time when she believed her future was as vast as the sky above her. But that was before the rumors began-whispers carried on the wind about her family's debts and her father's desperate attempts to hold onto their crumbling wealth. She was the youngest of three sisters, but unlike them, she possessed neither the sharp wit of Cecilia nor the calculating charm of Lillian. Caroline was the gentle one, the soft-hearted dreamer with a love for books and moonlit walks. It was a kindness her family often dismissed as weakness.

"Caroline!" Her sister's voice broke through her thoughts, sharp and impatient. Cecilia, always impatient. Caroline turned to see her elder sister stepping onto the balcony, her blonde curls catching the moonlight like spun gold. Cecilia was beautiful in the way that made men stare and women whisper enviously.

"You're out here again," Cecilia chided, folding her arms across her chest. "Mother's been looking for you. She wants you to join us in the parlor."

Caroline forced a smile, though she knew whatever conversation awaited her inside would be filled with talk of marriage proposals and alliances, topics she had little interest in. "I just needed a moment," she replied softly. "The moon is beautiful tonight."

Cecilia's expression softened for a brief moment, but it quickly hardened again. "The moon won't save this family, Caroline. You need to be present. You know how important tonight is."

"Yes, I know," Caroline murmured, stepping away from the railing. She followed her sister back inside, her heart sinking with each step.

In the parlor, her parents were seated with stern expressions. Her father, Lord Lockwood, was a tall man with a once-imposing presence now diminished by worry and age. Lady Lockwood, her mother, had an air of cold elegance, her gaze assessing Caroline with a critical eye as she entered.

"You took your time," Lady Lockwood said, her tone clipped. "We've been discussing a proposal, Caroline."

Caroline's heart skipped a beat. "A proposal?"

"Yes," her father interjected, his voice weary but hopeful. "From the Alexander Pack."

The name sent a shiver down her spine. Everyone knew of the Alexanders-the most powerful werewolf pack in the region. Their influence stretched far beyond their own territory, and their alpha, Kai Alexander, was said to be as ruthless as he was handsome. But why would they propose a match with the Lockwoods? It made no sense.

"Why would they want an alliance with us?" Caroline asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Her mother's smile was thin and devoid of warmth. "Why do you think, Caroline? We may not have the wealth we once did, but we still have our title. And the Alexander Pack is looking to secure their position in noble society."

Caroline's blood ran cold. "But they're werewolves. You can't be serious."

"This is an opportunity, Caroline," her father said sharply. "One we can't afford to lose. You will meet with them tomorrow, and you will do everything in your power to make a good impression."

She opened her mouth to protest, but the look on her mother's face silenced her. It was clear this wasn't a request-it was an order. The decision had already been made. Caroline felt a wave of panic rise within her, but she swallowed it down, nodding numbly.

"Yes, Father," she whispered.

Later that night, as Caroline lay in her bed, staring up at the ceiling, she felt the first inkling of dread coil in her stomach. The Alexander Pack was known for their ferocity, their dominance. The rumors about Kai Alexander were enough to make even the bravest warriors shudder. He was said to be cold, merciless, a man who ruled his pack with an iron fist.

She pulled the covers up to her chin, a futile attempt to shield herself from the chill of fear creeping over her. She had never met him, but already she felt a shadow looming over her, darkening the path her life was about to take.

For the first time in her life, Caroline wished she could run far away, beyond the reach of her family's expectations and the grim future they had set before her. But there was no escape. Not for her.

As the moonlight streamed through her window, casting pale patterns across her room, Caroline made a silent promise to herself: She would survive whatever awaited her. No matter how dark it became, she would find a way to endure.

She had no idea that this resolve, born out of desperation, would be the spark that ignited a fire she couldn't yet imagine-a fire that would consume everything in its path, leaving only ashes and the memory of the girl she used to be

Caroline could still remember the estate in its glory days. The Lockwood Manor had once been the crown jewel of their territory, a sprawling estate surrounded by lush forests and shimmering rivers. Her father's influence stretched across the lands like the golden light of dawn, admired by allies and feared by enemies. As a child, she had danced barefoot through the gardens, her laughter mingling with the songs of birds. There were feasts, celebrations, and a time when her family was happy-or at least, it seemed so through the eyes of a naive girl.

But now, the manor was a husk of its former self. The walls, once vibrant with tapestries depicting their lineage, were now bare and cracked. The servants had dwindled in number, and those who remained moved through the halls like shadows, afraid to disturb the lingering silence of a family on the edge of ruin.

Her father, Lord Richard Lockwood, had inherited a legacy built on power, prestige, and a healthy dose of fear. He was a man who had once held his head high, the kind of noble who could silence a room with a single glance. But time had not been kind to him. He had aged prematurely, the lines of worry etched deeply into his face, his once broad shoulders now slumped under the invisible weight of debts and broken promises. He spent his days pouring over ancient ledgers, trying to salvage what was left of their crumbling fortune.

Her mother, Lady Arabella Lockwood, had been the heart of the manor. In her youth, Arabella was the envy of every noblewoman-a beauty with raven hair, striking green eyes, and a smile that could charm anyone. But beneath the charm was a calculating mind, a woman who knew how to play the games of court politics. Arabella's love was conditional, offered only when it served her interests. For her, appearances mattered above all. She had married Richard not for love, but for the power the Lockwood name carried. And when the power began to fade, so did her affections.

Caroline's sisters were no less complicated. Cecilia, the eldest, was everything a noblewoman should be-beautiful, sharp, and utterly ruthless. She had taken after their mother in every way that mattered. Cecilia had a string of suitors at her feet, but she played them like a game of chess, always seeking the best match to elevate her own status. She was the daughter Arabella was most proud of, the one who would secure a wealthy marriage and bring fortune back to their family.

Then there was Lillian, the middle child. Where Cecilia was cold and calculating, Lillian was fiery and impulsive. Her beauty was more wild, with auburn curls and a temper to match. Lillian had been engaged twice, and both times the engagements had been broken off-once because she was caught kissing a stable boy, and the second time because she slapped her suitor at a dinner party. Lillian was the family's embarrassment, the one who rebelled against their mother's rigid expectations at every turn.

And then there was Caroline. The youngest, the quiet one. The one who was overlooked, underestimated, and often forgotten. Caroline had grown up in the shadow of her sisters, always the afterthought. She wasn't as beautiful as Cecilia, nor as bold as Lillian. Her beauty was softer, more delicate-a kind smile, a gentle voice, and eyes that still held a glimmer of innocence. It was this softness that her family considered her greatest flaw.

"She's too gentle," her mother would often say, shaking her head as if it were a curse. "She'll never survive the court. She'll be eaten alive."

But it was her father's disappointment that cut the deepest. Richard had wanted sons-strong heirs who could carry on the Lockwood legacy. Instead, he had three daughters, each one a reminder of his failed ambitions. He had tried to mold Cecilia into a leader, to make her the heir he had always desired, but it was a poor substitute for the sons he had dreamed of. Caroline, especially, had always felt the sting of his regret. He barely looked at her, as if acknowledging her existence was a reminder of all he had lost.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden glow across the fields, Caroline found herself wandering the empty hallways of the manor. She paused by a portrait of her great-grandfather, a stern-looking man in battle armor. He had been a warrior, a hero in the Great War between the werewolf packs and the human kingdoms. The Lockwood name had meant something then. It had been a name spoken with respect.

Now, it was nothing but a relic of a past no one cared about.

"Caroline," a voice called, pulling her from her thoughts. It was Lillian, leaning against the doorway with her usual smirk. "Dreaming of the old days again?"

Caroline smiled faintly. "Maybe I am. At least in the past, the Lockwoods were known for more than just our debts."

Lillian snorted, pushing away from the door. "You shouldn't romanticize the past. It's not as glorious as you think. Our great-grandfather may have been a hero, but he was also a tyrant. He ruled with fear, not honor."

"And yet we're still living in the house he built," Caroline pointed out.

"For now," Lillian replied darkly. She stepped closer, her eyes searching Caroline's face. "You heard about the proposal, didn't you?"

Caroline nodded, her throat tight. "The Alexanders."

Lillian's expression softened, a rare look of concern flashing in her eyes. "You know what they say about Kai Alexander, don't you? He's ruthless, Caroline. He's not the kind of man you want to be tied to."

"I don't have a choice," Caroline whispered. "None of us do."

Lillian sighed, pulling her sister into a rare, brief embrace. "Just promise me one thing, Caroline," she murmured against her hair. "Don't let them break you. You're stronger than you think."

Caroline pulled back, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "I'm not strong like you, Lillian."

"You don't have to be like me," Lillian said softly. "You just have to survive. And you will."

The following morning dawned cold and gray, as if the sky itself sensed the shift in fate that was about to unfold. Caroline stood before the mirror in her room, dressed in her finest gown, her hands trembling as she fastened the delicate necklace around her neck. Today, she would meet Kai Alexander, the man who would change her life forever.

She took one last look at herself in the mirror, whispering a silent prayer that whatever awaited her, she would find a way to endure.

And with that, she stepped into the unknown.