End of Games

Chapter 5

Scott's POV

No. I didn't have an unborn son. Kira wasn't pregnant and she wasn't here.

Wait. Where was here? Hell?

Hell...

The thought of Hell suddenly caught my attention or seemed like there was something important about it beyond the Hellish experience Drogo put me through.

While Peter made me experience his Hell as a victim, Drogo made me experience the Hell he caused and that was much worse than Peter.

Peter... Hell...

What was the connection between Peter and Hell? The fact that Peter escaped Hell and got Lydia to resurrect him, maybe?

Wait. Did the fact that I could smell... Was it Drogo's hut with Daenerys that I smelled? Along with Daenerys, herself, with her head on top of my chest?

The scents smelled real, too real to be memories or part of Drogo's nightmares, and Daenerys sure felt real and so did her heartbeat, so did the two things on my abdomen and my thigh above the blanket like Daenerys.

In that moment, Derek's lessons kicked in and came to the forefront of my mind, especially those that dealt with waking up in a hostile and unknown environment Derek taught me after Braeden rescued him and Peter from the Calaveras, although truthfully speaking, there wasn't anything hostile here, just the girl and the two weights I made sure not to disturb by moving until my senses have me an idea of what was going on.

Surprisingly, I found some of Drogo's own tactics and lessons of waking up to an enemy attract coming to mind but they came in handy.

Steadying my breathing and heartrate, I opened my senses only to discover something disturbing, I didn't feel the moon at all, something that made me feel vulnerable in a way I haven't... I remembered that one time during the Moon eclipse, but this was nothing like it.

I kept track of the Moon and its events like any responsible werewolf and I knew that even after the full moon had passed, I usually still felt it. Now, however, I didn't feel it, although strangely, I still felt all the benefits being a werewolf provided me and they felt a little amplified.

I filed the details for later and focused on my surroundings, first in the room and I detected four hearts, not counting mine.

One belonged to Daenerys and three were rather odd and fast paced and I thought that two came from the weights I felt on my abdomen and thigh, the third maybe on Daenerys' shoulder.

That done, I picked up three heartbeats just outside the room I knew was a hut and then more beyond but found less than I expected from Drogo's memories.

I decided to eavesdrop to collect more information, and when I overheard two someones talking about how Daenerys not only brought back dragons to the world but also resurrected Drogo, I focused on them although they spoke a language I have never heard of.

At that thought, another information from Drogo presented itself to me, revealing that the language was Dothraki. Knowing the mind melding ritual, I likened my easy access to Drogo's memories to the ritual although they oddly felt like mine and I was just remembering them like how Kira picked up sword fighting but I knew they weren't mine.

The gossiping duo I eavesdropped on, both women, didn't know what to think about Drogo's resurrection.

They spoke of how he was a black dog who rose from the ashes of Drogo's funeral pyre before transforming into Drogo, and at that, I had a flash of memory as the black dog they spoke about, and with the memory, I suddenly felt like I had a purpose, a very important purpose.

Being that the only thing I wanted was to die, I internally freaked out at the certainty of the feeling of having a destined purpose and opened my eyes to look for a way to escape.

My auditory scan told me that the back of the hut was unguarded and there weren't people around. With a way out, I turned my attention to the head covered with silver, or was it white, hair on my chest and noticed something strange, I had beard, fully grown beard that looked exactly like Drogo's from my point of view.

Something was not right. That was an understatement because everything was not right, it was all wrong. I was supposed to be dead and with my ancestors in the Night Lands with Allison and...

And why would Allison be in the Night Lands, the afterlife of the Dothraki when she didn't even believe in any religion and I didn't believe in any religion, either?

It seemed Drogo's memories weren't the only thing bleeding into my mind, so were his beliefs and that terrified and excited me at the same time.

Drogo would have been proud of Stiles killing and killed Liam for trying to kill me if he was me, and held on to life so that he could kill Theo with his bare hands and take pride in that.

The excitement almost made me forget about the beard that looked like Drogo's but it was hard to forget it when just a moment ago I didn't have beard. What did it mean?

Oh, I knew what it implied but I didn't want to believe it. Resurrection? I could deal with. Occupying someone else's body? I couldn't deal with.

I carefully shifted the silver-white haired head off my shoulders, extra careful not to disturb the animal on her shoulder, and sat up, only to have the implication of the beard confirmed, I was possessing Drogo's body.

Only my desperation to escape and shock kept panic in check, but the animal that fell off my abdomen almost ruined everything as it hissed irate at the sudden movement but I quickly shut it up and instinctively glowed my eyes at it to calm it down despite it not being a dog but a... A whatever it was.

Surprisingly, it calmed down but equally surprising, I noticed something wrong with my eyes, my Alpha werewolf sight, it wasn't how it was supposed to be.

Everything was just wrong and I couldn't wait to escape and that was exactly what I did once I placed the animal to the side, along with its sibling on my thigh, and then got off the bed, protracted my claws that seemed a little weird and larger than before, and sliced the tent on the opposite side of the door to make a way out and escaped.

I wished my mom would wake me up from this nightmare.