Chapter 249

Grayson’s POV

The winds returned, a violent force howling through the in-between, tearing at anything unanchored. I moved swiftly, pressing my back against the crumbling stone wall of an abandoned ruin, pulling my tattered shirt tighter. The wind was relentless, hungry; if it touched me, I knew what would happen. It would pull me under.

It had happened before. Recklessness and slowness had nearly dragged me into the nothingness beyond. I had fought back, clawed my way to safety, but each time, I emerged weaker. This place wanted us gone—all of us.

“Still trying to fight it, huh?”

I didn't turn. I knew who spoke: Jonah. A man trapped here far longer than I could imagine, a man who never ceased talking. He sat on a broken column, grinning as if this were some grand joke. He didn't hide from the wind; it never touched him, having seemingly given up on him long ago. That alone made me wary.

“You know, you could just let go,” Jonah continued, swinging his legs. “Wouldn’t be the worst thing.”

Ignoring him, I scanned the horizon. The storm was easing, its howl fading. It had found someone else, someone who wouldn't fight as hard as I did.

Exhaling slowly, I stepped from the wall. My muscles remained tense, my body coiled, always ready, always waiting.

Jonah hopped down, stretching as if waking from a nap. “So, what’s the plan today, big guy? More brooding? More glaring at the sky?”

I started walking. He followed, naturally. I had found him—or perhaps he had found me—a few days ago. Time didn't function correctly here; it twisted, slipped through your fingers, making reality questionable. I had learned not to rely on it. Jonah, however, hadn't learned anything.

“You’re not much of a talker, are you?” he mused, hands in his pockets. “That’s fine. I’m great at carrying conversations. People used to say I talked too much, but I don’t think that’s possible. Silence is unnatural, uncomfortable. It’s like—”

I stopped. “You never shut up, do you?”

Jonah grinned. “Not if I can help it.”

Sighing, I pressed my fingers to my temple. I had survived storms, illusions, the pull—but Jonah might be my undoing.

“I don’t see why you’re still fighting,” Jonah continued, falling into step. “You’re strong, probably the strongest here. But even you can’t win forever. No one does.”

“I’m not staying.”

That silenced him for a moment—a miracle.

Jonah whistled softly. “Ambitious. I like it. Got a plan?”

I didn’t answer; despite my efforts, I had none.

The wind had passed, but tension lingered. The realm never settled, never rested, existing in a perpetual state of waiting—waiting for something to happen, to shift, to break the monotony of this half-existence.

I continued walking. Jonah, of course, followed. It was always the same. I had stopped trying to lose him; he reappeared like an insistent stray dog.

“So,” he began, drawing out the word, “how’d you die?”

I didn’t answer. He didn’t seem surprised.

He sighed dramatically, strolling beside me as if we were on a casual afternoon walk instead of trapped in a place between life and death. “Alright, maybe that was too direct. What was your life like before this? Who were you?”

I kept walking.

Jonah clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “Wow. Not even a hint? Come on, man, you’ve been broody and mysterious since I met you. That’s exhausting.”

Still, I said nothing. My mind was calculating. There had to be a way out. There always was.

The landscape stretched endlessly: ruins, shadows, and an unchanging sky—no sun, no stars, just a heavy gray, as if the world were perpetually stuck between night and day. The air smelled stale, like something long forgotten.

Jonah sighed again, as if my silence were a personal offense. “Fine. If you’re not gonna talk, I will.”

No surprise there.

He kicked a loose stone, watching it bounce. “You know, I was a werewolf. Not a particularly loved one. People dislike hearing unwanted truths. And me? I favored truth and reality. Unfortunately, the world prefers lies and comfort.”

I glanced at him. He smirked. “Ah-ha! That got your attention, didn’t it?”

I ignored him.

He continued, “I wasn’t a bad guy. I just… didn’t know how to keep my mouth shut. Pack politics? Corruption? I called it like I saw it. That didn’t make me many friends.”

He paused, his playful tone shifting to something more thoughtful. “One day, I angered the wrong people. My own pack turned on me. Said I was a problem. And… long story short, I ended up here.”

I didn’t ask for details. Betrayal was written all over him.

Jonah kept his voice light, but bitterness underlay it. “Funny, isn’t it? People want honesty until they get it. Then, you’re the bad guy.”

I didn’t respond.

He stretched. “Okay, okay, I’ll stop monologuing,” he said, holding up his hands. “But seriously, man. You don’t talk at all?”

I kept walking.

Jonah groaned. “You are the worst person to be stuck with.”

I smirked, barely.

Jonah noticed. His eyes widened. “Oh? Did I get a reaction?”

I shook my head.

“Unbelievable,” he exclaimed. “The only person who’s stayed long enough treats conversation like a crime.”

He kept talking, but I tuned him out. My mind worked through possibilities. There had to be a way out. This wasn’t how things ended with Ava. The thought of her alone sparked something. Jonah sighed, “You know, I had a mate. Well, kind of. She never accepted me. But I loved her. Stupid, right?”

Why was I not surprised?

Jonah laughed, humorless. “I think she knew I was too much trouble. Or maybe I wasn’t good enough. She never chose me. And then… I’m here.”

His voice trailed off. For the first time, he was quiet. The silence stretched. Then, he breathed sharply. “Alright, brooding master of silence, your turn. I’ve spilled my guts.”

I didn’t.

He groaned, opening his mouth to complain when the wind howled. My body tensed. It shouldn't be back so soon. Then it hit—fast, sharp, tearing through the space around us.

I moved instinctively, but Jonah didn’t flinch. He turned to me, almost amused.

“Maybe I’d feel bad,” he said, calm despite the rising chaos, “if you were better company. The winds don’t take me because I help people face the truth. And the truth is—no one is getting out of here.”

My eyes snapped to him. Before I could react, Jonah shoved me. Right into the storm.