The Villains Must Win

Chapter 369: Alistair Cain 29

Selene flexed her wrist where he had held her. It did not hurt—but the heat of his grip lingered.

"I was merely strolling, my lord."

"You will refrain from strolling near the school. Didn’t I warn you?"

"I’m sorry, my lord. I thought you mean inside school rooms and I was free to roam around campus."

His eyes darkened at once, shadow swallowing what little restraint remained within them.

"You will regret that misunderstanding," he said quietly.

The tension between them sharpened like a drawn blade.

He did not like that others had noticed her.

He did not like that Cassian had looked at her.

He liked even less that Cassian had been interested.

The more nobles who recognized Selene, the more vulnerable she became. Court politics was not a game of idle whispers; it was a battlefield disguised as civility. A single rumor could become a weapon.

And whether he wished to admit it—or not—

She was his weakness.

The realization unsettled him more than any external threat ever could.

Selene, however, was only half-listening.

Her vision flickered.

A translucent window shimmered before her eyes.

[The Story is Deviating.]

Her pulse quickened.

[Cassian has developed Interest in You.]

Huh?

Interest?

This was new.

The system had never warned her before.

Yet now it was alert—responsive—almost... guiding her.

Was it because this was a Rank-S world? An unprogressed route, unstable and unclaimed?

She resisted the urge to stop walking. This was not the time to explore the system notifications—not with Alistair’s mood already fraying at the edges.

The scolding was merciless.

Not loud.

Not cruel.

—but punishing her in a most delightful manner.

It was their usual S&M night, yet this time, to Selene’s secret glee, Alistair’s restraint had thinned to nothing. His hands claimed her without hesitation, exploring, commanding—until he took her fully and relentlessly, keeping her beneath him through the long hours of darkness, drawing trembling gasps from her lips and making her writhe beneath his touch.

By the time he finally dismissed her, the manor had fallen silent.

Selene returned to her room and collapsed upon the velvet chaise near the window. The moonlight filtered through sheer curtains, casting pale lines across the floor.

Only then did she reopen the system interface.

[Progress: 29.7%]

Nearly thirty percent.

Not much—but significant.

The description box flickered open.

Original Route:

Yuki captures Cassian’s attention during the bullying scene. Cassian becomes a secondary obstacle to Alistair’s villain arc.

Deviation Detected: Cassian has shifted preliminary interest toward Selene.

Selene leaned back slowly.

In the original storyline, Yuki—the headstrong heroine—was meant to charm Cassian. That connection would later complicate Alistair’s downfall.

But now...

Cassian had noticed her instead.

The narrative was shifting.

The threads were rearranging.

And Selene did not care.

As long as the villain, Alistair, won in the end.

She closed her eyes briefly.

Alistair was not meant to survive the original plot. He was destined to spiral into obsession, cruelty, and eventual destruction at the heroine’s hands.

But Selene had no intention of allowing that ending.

If the story wished to deviate—

Then she would guide it.

Cassian’s interest might prove useful.

Or dangerous.

Either way, it was a lever.

And Selene had always known how to pull the right strings.

A faint smile curved her lips.

Let the narrative tremble.

Let destiny fracture.

She would not be a background character in someone else’s romance.

If the world insisted on rewriting itself around her—

Then she would ensure the villain claimed victory.

Even if she had to become the greater villain to do so.

Outside her window, the roses swayed in the dark.

And somewhere within the manor, Alistair stood alone in his study, staring at his reflection as though it were a rival he meant to destroy.

The candlelight trembled against the tall mirrors, casting fractured shadows across his face. For a fleeting second, he did not recognize the man staring back.

He did not like what he saw.

Not the possessiveness tightening his jaw.

Not the jealousy lurking behind composed eyes.

Not the way her absence from his side felt as though something essential had been torn from him—something he had never permitted himself to own.

His gloved hand rose and pressed against the cold glass.

The chill bit into his palm.

This is weakness.

The word echoed in the silence.

And yet—

When Cassian’s hand had reached toward her—

The urge to sever it had not been calculated.

It had not been political.

It had not been strategic.

It had been instinct.

Raw. Immediate. Territorial.

He closed his eyes.

This was dangerous.

For her.

For him.

For everything he had carefully constructed over centuries of discipline.

And still—

He could not stop.

His eyes flew open.

Blood red.

The restraint he wore like armor fractured in a single breath.

"Perhaps," he murmured to the empty room, voice hollow and disturbingly calm, "I should simply kill her."

The words did not horrify him.

They soothed him.

There was a perverse comfort in the thought—clean, decisive, uncomplicated. If she were gone, this weakness would vanish with her. The distraction. The jealousy. The unbearable pull toward something human and fragile.

He could replace her.

Another blood bank.

Another obedient creature with luminous eyes and pliant devotion.

One who would not disturb him.

One who would not make him feel.

The moment the thought settled—

The world shifted.

In the blink of an eye, he was no longer in his study.

He stood inside Selene’s chambers.

Moonlight poured through the tall windows, washing the room in pale silver. She sat upon the edge of her bed, brushing her hair, unaware that death had crossed the threshold.

"My lord?" she asked softly, startled by his sudden appearance.

There was no anger in his face.

No warning.

Only an eerie stillness.

He moved before she could rise.

A swift motion.

A flash of nails.

The scent of iron flooded the air.

Her last sight was crimson splattering across his cheek—warm against skin that had once hovered inches from hers in far more intimate proximity.

Her lips parted.

Not in accusation.

Not in hatred.

Only confusion.

WHY?!

The word never reached her tongue.

Darkness swallowed her whole.