The WereGames III - Game Over: A Paranormal Dystopian Romance

by Jade White

  THE WEREGAMES III

  GAME OVER

  JADE WHITE

  Copyright ©2018 by Jade White

  All rights reserved.

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  About This Book

  This is Book 3 from “The WereGames”.

  A romance series set in a dystopian future where humans lived alongside werebeings. But only after a werebeing had won their freedom by participating in “The WereGames”. If you win you are set free, otherwise you spend your life in captivity. Survival of the fittest at its worst.

  If you are new to the series start with Book 1

  Ryker and Alexia's adventure now takes them to Alaska where they face what they hope to be their final fight before finding freedom.

  However, President Caledeon has other plans for them and a plan that could spell GAME OVER for the starcrossed couple.

  After all, how can Alexia save anyone if she has no way to remember who she is?

  This is a thrilling end to the dystopian romance series that has blown many away. Download now and see how it all ends.

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER ONE

  His little ears perked up. Those were bullets, a sound he would never forget for as long as he lived. His first instinct was to run back. He knew the guns that went off came from inside their home. His feet stayed put, as he strained to hear more. He could smell them, their different scents, the sweat from the men, the blood spilled… he could hear a man’s gasp. It sounded like his father. It was his father.

  He didn’t notice tears falling from his eyes as he stared at the darkness across him; there were the tiniest twinkling lights that came from his home. He could smell them get closer, moving out of the house; he could hear them move. They were out to find him; they knew he was one of those anomalies. His heart pounded.

  This was a stressor, a stressor that could make him shift out of control and into their nets. He could feel bile rise up his throat, and he clenched his hands, determined to stop the shifting from happening. Not here – papa said not anywhere where they can see…

  There was a persistent pain at the base of his skull, and he knew he was going to change, no matter his efforts. He had to get as far, far away as possible, into the mountains, into that cave where he had fallen asleep one time… no one would find him there… it felt like his brain had begun to split apart. He had no other clothes… what would his mother think? He felt his jaw unhinge, and the saliva in his mouth thickened… his knuckles began to feel bruised, feeling his bones increase in size…

  He ran, he ran without knowing where he was going. All he knew was that he had to survive. Then he stopped, realizing that he had grown up, he had become a young man, and with him was a young woman. It was Alexia.

  “Alexia,” he gasped, hearing screams and bodies exploding all around them. She was looking at him with sad, gray eyes that suddenly darkened as she collapsed in his arms.

  “Ryker…” she whispered. “Don’t let go of me, don’t let go…”

  Her cold hand held onto his cheek as she struggled for breath. She was dying in his arms, and he couldn’t do anything about it…

  “He’s coming to,” someone whispered. The voice sounded far away, almost like a dream. He could still hear Alexia’s voice, and his fingers were grasped onto something, what seemed like bedsheets. His eyes flew open, and he was staring at a dark ceiling with muted lights in the corners. There was no snow; there were no military forces surrounding him. He tried to move but found he couldn’t.

  “It’ll take a while before you can move on your own,” a calm voice said. He looked sideways with difficulty and saw a young woman sitting on a chair, her pale face partially covered by unruly reddish hair. Beside her was a tall and gangly man with a shock of white hair and steely blue eyes. They both wore thick black thermals.

  “Who-” Ryker began, then he closed his eyes, feeling his body spasm with pain. It was real, he was alive, and Alexia was nowhere to be found.

  “Perhaps, we should discuss this when you’re feeling better. I don’t recommend you shift, though. The room is pretty small,” the man told him.

  Ryker didn’t care; he found himself drifting off to sleep again. The young woman stared at him for a while, until the man beside her cleared his throat.

  “It’s best we let him be for a while, Sarah,” the man told the much younger woman. “He went through quite a lot earlier.”

  Sarah’s gaze lingered on the young man’s face before she stood up. Then she and Leopold exited the 9 square feet by 9 square foot room. They both walked down gray hallways, the cold from above seeping through just a little bit. Sarah thought the heaters needed some fixing and told herself she would check on those later.

  They were a small community, a community of less than four thousand, all hiding from Caledon’s presence and might under a labyrinth of well-made complexes underground. She had grown up here and had rarely gone above Alaska in her eighteen years of living. It was the price she had to pay for having werebeing genes and for being able to shift.

  Everyone in the community had it under control; shifting without reason was subject to execution or mandatory seclusion for years. This was the first time she had seen an outsider enter their compound. Sarah was a werefox, and while their community harbored werebeings, there were normal humans among them – some doctors, working tirelessly to aid them in their quest for some normalcy.

  Sarah knew they could never be normal, and some in the community opted for the chance at a miracle potion, to drive their mutation away, to dissolve it. She didn’t want that. She was proud of her genetics. Her mother, a human, had died giving birth to her, while her father, a werefox, was currently part of their small military network.

  They had amassed some data, along with much needed equipment, only two years ago from sources the higher-ups didn’t want to mention. Her father had let slip that they would soon exit for another place, a place she didn’t know. So, she dreamed of it while she read and sometimes surfaced above for some much-needed fresh air, no matter how cold.

  The stranger was fresh air, she thought as she excused herself for her family’s quarters. She needed to calm herself down, knowing she was suddenly excited at the thought of meeting someone like him – the boy with no name yet. He was a werebeing through and through; she could smell it off him. Shaking her head from the distraction, she thought of relaxing first, before attending to dinner.

  They all ate communa
l meals, in one large mess hall, with their meager greens artificially produced in greenhouses with fake sunlight and their meats mostly from caribou or moose, which was conveniently frozen to keep it longer. Fish was a treat, and rarely did they do ice fishing for fear of random military check-ups. A lake had frozen over just a few miles away from their compound, and the estuary led to the open and rough seas when it melted.

  She knew the military contingent (of two hundred), had amassed materials for a few submarines and planes, large enough to fit their entire population, but she dreaded ever getting into submarines. It would be too enclosed, too dangerous; one false move or one attack could mean everyone’s deaths.

  Still, it was something the Alaska Tribe was willing to risk, all for freedom. She knew about the tribe’s history by heart, as it was the only world she had ever known.

  A green signal lit up by the door of their twenty-five-square meter room, and she knew it was time to eat. She thought about the stranger once more, hating the fact that she was absorbed with an unconscious man’s presence. He was just a boy, not quite a man, even.

  Why was she so excited? She found herself admiring his face. She had cared for him intermittently, at first not wanting to, but the moment she had seen his bruised-up face and near mangled body, she was engrossed.

  That had been a mere seven days ago. Seven days was awfully long, and the doctors had said he would wake up soon. If he needed to shift, he had to be taken above, just for extra precaution. Seeing him speak, albeit a single word, had made her heart leap.

  She was being juvenile, she knew. But what were the odds of meeting someone like him? Their community was so small, marriages were sometimes arranged, just to keep the community thriving. They had done so for the past seventy years – since the first evil Caledon president had hunted their kind down. Sarah had seen him murmur someone’s name in his sleep, as if he was in a bad dream. He had done so earlier, but she still couldn’t catch who it was. Perhaps it was his family; perhaps it was his love. She frowned, thinking that someone out there was waiting for him.

  She had taken care of the stranger for a week and had some strange sense of loyalty and affinity to him. Why was she jealous of a figment of her imagination? She wasn’t even sure if he loved someone romantically, apart from his parents. Sarah bit her lower lip, intent on seeing him again later.

  CHAPTER TWO

  She blinked, waking up, and her heart was pounding. She had dreamed of someone’s face, a young man’s. He had icy blue eyes that only warmed at the sight of her. He was shouting her name. She realized she didn’t know who he was.

  Alexia was alone in her room, and she felt the thick blanket suffocating her. She quickly sat up, wondering if she was safe. Of course, she was. The room had no windows and only a single door. She saw the bracelet monitor slapped tightly on her wrist, showing her heart beating and her blood pressure.

  The door hissed open, and in came a pleasant-looking man in his early sixties. “Ah, you’re up,” he said convivially.

  She hadn’t met him before, had she?

  “You’ve been out for a couple of days,” he continued.

  Alexia started to move, but she felt sharp pains radiate through her body. She found herself collapsing onto her bed again.

  “Vitals are fine. Your broken bones will heal. There are vitamins, of course,” the man in the white lab coat told her, approaching her bedside.

  There was something about the word ‘vitamins’ that made her shudder ever so slightly. “Who are you?” she found herself asking.

  “I’m your savior, Dr. Wallace,” he said mildly.

  Wallace. Wallace. She had heard of his name before, she knew it; it was buried deep inside her memories. She realized she couldn’t remember anything from the previous day. Her thoughts were fuzzy, almost as if she had blacked out for all of her life.

  “I understand that you can’t remember anything yet,” Dr. Wallace told her, “but I’m here to help you. But you have to help us first.”

  “You’re keeping me here,” she said. It wasn’t a question. She knew he was keeping her here. She saw Dr. Wallace nod.

  “It’s for your safety, and for the country’s.”

  “But I’m just-”

  “A normal human?” Dr. Wallace interrupted her. “Well, for starters, you aren’t. You’re special; you’re special to me, to us.”

  Her brows furrowed. “What’s so special about being kept here?”

  “Tell me what you remember. If you remember anything at all?” he asked her.

  She shook her head. “Nothing.”

  “Well, I think it’s best if we keep it that way,” he said. “You’ve been through a lot. Someone took you away from us.”

  “Who was that?” she asked.

  “This guy right here.” Dr. Wallace handed over a monitor, and she took it shakily with her pale hands. “That’s Ryker Locklear. He’s a werebeing-”

  “A what?”

  “You’ll see more of this later on,” he assured her. “For now, we’ll have to give you a few mild tests.”

  “Tests?”

  “Yes, these won’t hurt, I promise you,” he told her. Dr. Wallace held out his hand, and Alexia took it with just a little bit of hesitation.

  *

  “You didn’t touch your food,” Sarah said, approaching the lonely looking man sitting on the bench. The others had left the mess hall long ago, and he was the only one eating alone- or sitting alone.

  Ryker looked up to her with nary a smile on his face. He had started to walk around only yesterday, and he was being monitored by the medical team for a while. Their medical team was meager, but every person inside the complex was useful, even the children. She prided herself with how their community worked; with the stories she had heard from the up-dwellers. She thought they were way better in terms of lifestyle and efficiency.

  He didn’t say anything. She had wanted him to say something from the moment he’d begun to walk. It had been how many days since? He was healing fine, despite not being able to shift. The bruises that surrounded his body had disappeared, but she knew his bones were still set on healing. The bullet holes had closed, and the doctors had successfully taken them all out, a total of twenty. The extent of his injuries was shocking, but he had survived, and she found herself attracted to him even more…

  “You should eat; you need it,” she added cheerfully.

  His gaze lingered on her, but he said nothing. It was as if his eyes were searching for something else, or someone else – someone who was far away – as if he didn’t see her. Who was she? It had to be someone he loved, she or he; it didn’t matter.“Who are you?” he finally asked.

  She took a breath and sat down across him. “Sarah. I watched over you while you were

  sleeping” she paused, wondering if it sounded creepy. If it did, he paid no attention to it.

  “Thank you,” he uttered.

  His voice sounded hollow and raspy, like he had just gotten over some kind of throat infection. She nodded at him. “You’re welcome.”

  “Were you alone?” she found herself asking. They had found him completely naked; their rangers had scouted the place and had hidden well enough to witness most of what had happened, but the details she knew were all hearsay.

  He shook his head. “I was- I was with someone. Did you find her?”

  Her. So there really was a ‘her.’ “I’m not sure. I didn’t get to join the rescue operations. They found you in really bad shape.”

  Bad shape was an understatement. He hadn’t been that mangled and near death since the WereGames. A knot formed in his stomach as he thought about her again. He couldn’t stop thinking about Alexia. He had failed her.

  “I figured, maybe we can make our own bit of paradise there.”

  “You mean it?”

  “Which part?”

  “Making our own bit of paradise. Together.”

  “Of course, I mean it. Like I said before, I’m not leaving you.”


  “Things could happen…”

  “Have I ever let anything harm you since we left that wretched hell-hole?” he asked her.

  “No.”

  “There you have it.”

  “Maybe you’re too attached to me,” Alexia had told him.

  “Of course, I’m attached to you. I wake up seeing your face every day.”

  “Maybe things will be different if we get to be with other people, other werebeings.”

  “It will be different, but my attachment won’t change. And I don’t think this is part of your magic touch-” he paused, remembering how they had touched each other earlier. He took a breath, blinked, and squeezed his eyes shut to concentrate on the matter. “As long as I’m alive, I’m here for you.”

  “It’s like you love me enough,” she said into the darkness.

  I shouldn’t have allowed this to happen, then it wouldn’t have bothered me so much, he told himself. He had sworn to protect her, but he had failed. He had once told himself he would never love, but he had. Those realizations had gotten him careless and irrational. He should have just died…

  “I didn’t get your name, yet,” she told him, interrupting his thoughts.

  “Ryker,” he replied. He didn’t need to give a family name, now, did he? He was an orphan. He had killed his parents, and he had given Alexia her death sentence, too. Almost everyone underneath this small city was a werebeing, but these people hadn’t shifted frequently; some hadn’t shifted in years.

  His doctor had asked what kind of werebeing he was, but he couldn’t respond. He knew they would get back to him sooner or later, to wring more information out of him. The military section of the community had spoken to him, but he’d barely said anything. He wasn’t ready to talk completely, wasn’t ready to face the fact that he had let her down.

  “Ryker,” she repeated, as if committing it to memory in case she got amnesia. “That’s a nice name. Where are you from?”