Chapter 48 Guards

Chapter 48 Guards
When Veronica came back downstairs, Eloise was stirring a pot of stew over the stove. Their original kitchen had been built outside the house, but it wasn’t safe for them to wander out anymore. Not in times like these.

So they opted to make a temporary one in the living room. The place was a mess but it wasn’t like they were expecting any visitors. It was just them.

Their parents had died four years ago, forcing fourteen-year-old Veronica to care for her younger sister alone. Fortunately, they had good neighbors like Mrs. Edwin, who stayed by their side to help. Thanks to them, the sisters had survived this long without too many hiccups.

“Vee, why are you standing there? Food is ready.” Eloise gestured for her to come closer.

Veronica sighed and helped her sister set the table. Their breakfast consisted of a thin, watery vegetable stew and two stale loaves of bread that they bought a week ago.

“We need to eat fast before the monsters come for the tax.”

“Stop calling them that, Eloise.” Veronica shot her a pointed look. 

“What? Aren’t they what they are? Monsters. Actually, I think I should add thieves to the title.” Eloise’s voice dripped bitterness.

“Don’t.” Veronica’s voice was sharp. “You need to be on your best behavior when the guards come. I don’t want us to get into trouble.” She dipped her bread into the stew and took a bite. Then she glanced at the small pouch of coins they had prepared in advance. “The werewolves need those taxes to protect us.”

“From what? Other monsters like them. Open your eyes, Vee. They are all the same. We are nothing but prey to them.” Eloise’s hands clenched around her bowl.

Veronica bit her lips. 

Supernaturals had ruled the world for years now. And the council’s word was law. Humans were at the very bottom, creatures with no supernatural ability, and they were exploited in countless ways.

But Veronica still believed there were good people among them. She and Eloise lived in a human settlement under werewolf protection, and their Master, Lord Eldridge, was better than most. She considered herself lucky. Humans under vampire rule had it far worse, many of them were used as blood banks.

So no, she didn’t think all supernaturals were bad. Humans were weak. They needed protectors. What was so wrong about paying a little tax now and then? Lord Eldridge was good to them, and as long as they kept their heads down, the werewolves let them be.

A sharp knock rattled the door. “Guards! Open up!”

Eloise’s fists tightened. “Instead of defending, they take from the less fortunate.”

Veronica shot her a warning glare and whispered, “They might hear you. Hush.”

She smoothed down her dress, picked up the small pouch, and went to open the door.

The moment it swung open, a tall, burly man pushed his way inside. His yellow eyes swept over her before landing on Eloise by the table. He wore an official red uniform with a werewolf embroidered at the back. A single star was pinned to his chest, a mark of his low rank as a guard.

“I’m here to collect.” 

Veronica kept her eyes lowered and held out the pouch. “The tax.”

The man’s lips curled into a sneer as he snatched it from her hand, claws flashing in the process. A silent show of power. Veronica knew it all too well.

The man sifted through the coins, his frown deepening. “You’re five coins short.” He looked up sharply. “Don’t you know the tax has increased?”

Veronica’s head snapped up before she could stop herself. “Since when?”

A growl rumbled through his chest at her insubordination. She dropped her gaze back to the floor. 

“Since the sirens sank the ships, destroyed our shipment, and drowned half our troops.” His voice was cold. “We need to recover what we’ve lost, or there’ll be food shortages. No one wants that.” He stretched out his food. “Now. Complete the payment.”

Panic clawed at Veronica’s chest. The rest of the coins were meant to last them through the month. If they gave those up, they would be living on scraps.

“We have nothing left,” she said quietly.

The man’s eyes narrowed to slits. “What? You’re refusing to give Lord Eldridge, the leader of the council?” He took a step closer. “U could take your head for that.”

Eloise hurried to her sister's side before Veronica could stop her.

“We’ve been paying this amount for months. You keep increasing it every few months,” Eloise said, her trembling but defiant. “If we pay any more, we’ll starve.”

“Blame the sirens,” the man answered heartlessly. His hand shot out, gripping Veronica’s arm roughly, claws digging into her skin. “Don’t waste my time.”

Veronica winced but couldn’t move. She didn’t know what to do. Giving up the coins would mean starvation, and she couldn’t let Eloise go through that. She was fifteen, a growing teenager, she needed food.

Just then, a commotion in the street drew their attention. Another guard was dragging a man by his hair, kicking him as he struggled and screamed that he had nothing left. The guard paid no mind, hauling him down the dirty road toward an uncertain punishment.

“Give me the coins, or you’re next,” the burly man snarled.

“Go to hell,” Eloise spat.

Veronica’s blood ran cold as the man’s eyes flashed. He raised his hand to strike Eloise—

“That’s enough.”

The man halted in his strike.

The haters turned to see another guard approaching. He wore a similar uniform but with two stars instead of one. Veronica recognized him. He was Harold, their captain. He frequented this area often and was known as one of the more decent guards.

“But sir—“ the burly man started.

“Leave them.” Harold’s voice was firm. “Don’t you have daughters at home? Let this one slide.”

“They can’t compare to my angels.” The man grumbled but stepped back, claws retracting. 

He shot Eloise one last glare. “If you’re short next time, you won’t be so lucky. I’ll make sure you pay, one way or another.” He smiled slyly, eyeing them with a hint of lust.

His implication hung heavy in the air. Veronica shielded Eloise from his gaze. It was no secret that many human women were taken as sex slaves for the supernaturals. Most never returned. The few who did were too traumatized from the brutality.

“We’ll have it next time,” Veronica’s voice came out colder than she intended.

The man huffed and stepped into the street, grimacing at the mud that stuck to his shoe. The environment disgusted him.

Harold shook his head and approached the girls. He stopped at the doorway and glanced inside, offering a small smile. “You shouldn’t cook in the living room. You might start a fire. We don’t want that.”

“We’ll keep that in mind.” Veronica said quietly.

He nodded. “Go inside now. Stay safe, girls.”

He turned and walked away. Veronica didn't waste a moment. She slammed the door shut just as another person was dragged from his home. This time, they had been lucky.



Nova’s eyes snapped open.

She shot up from her seat in a panic, stumbling away from Veronica’s portrait as if it had burned her.

“Are you alright?” Lucien asked, raising a concerned brow.

Her gaze darted around the room before landing on the vampire lord. Her mouth opened, but no words came out.

She was back. Back in Lucien’s office as if nothing had changed. But a moment ago, she could have sworn she was Veronica — or at least, she had been watching through Veronica’s eyes in the 1800s.

Nova glanced back at the portrait, her brow furrowing. Was that a vision? Her hallucination? Or had she been sent back in time? How? Was it the painting? Had touching it triggered something?

Hesitantly, she reached out again, brushing her fingers across the canvas. Nothing happened.

“Why are you suddenly acting weird? Do you like the portrait so much?” Lucien’s voice was languid, amused. “I’m afraid I can't give it to you. You’ll have to ask your mate for his.”

Nova barely heard him. Her mind was still reeling. 

“I think I—“ she tried to explain but Lucien caught her off.

“I know.” Nova’s eyes widened and she looked at him. Lucien smiled, standing up. “You’ve already made your decision. Tell me what it is. Are you going to continue on your adventure or are you going back? Which is it?”

Nova blinked. She had almost forgotten about that. She decided to keep her mystical experience to herself. It was probably just a trick of the mind. Who would believe her if she told them anyway?

She glanced at Lucien, heaving a sigh. She had indeed come to a decision. Rune needed her, and she couldn’t abandon him now.