Chapter 37: 37.

The spaceship hummed softly, its mechanisms working tirelessly to keep us adrift in the endless void of space. I sat on the edge of my narrow bunk, tucking a thermal blanket securely around Liam. His small body seemed to disappear beneath the fabric, his dark curls a stark contrast to the pale light filtering through the room’s overhead panels.

“Mom?” he asked, his voice breaking the silence with its innocent curiosity. His large brown eyes met mine, a mixture of sleepiness and wonder in his gaze. “Who was that man with the electric blue eyes?”

I froze, my hands stilling over the blanket. I had been expecting this question but not so soon. The memory of those eyes flashed in my mind—bright, piercing, and inescapable. I had hoped Liam hadn’t noticed, but of course, he had. He was too observant, too clever for his age.

“I...” I hesitated, searching for the right words. “I know who he is.”

“Who is he, Mom?” Liam pressed, his voice soft but insistent. “Why did he look at you like that?”

Before I could answer, the door to our cabin slid open with a quiet hiss. Xander strolled in, his characteristic grin firmly in place and a flat holographic screen tucked under one arm. His presence filled the room with an air of levity that I desperately needed.

“Ah, bedtime interrogations,” he said with mock seriousness, his green eyes sparkling with mischief. “What’s the charge tonight? Unauthorized curiosity?”

I shot him a glare, but the corner of my mouth twitched in spite of myself. Xander always had a way of defusing tension, even when I didn’t want him to.

“I’ve got this, Zeph,” he said, waving me off as he set the screen on the small table next to the bunk. “Storytime is officially on.”

Liam perked up, a smile breaking through his sleepy expression. “What story?”

“Only the best one ever written about space dragons and rogue star knights!” Xander declared, powering up the screen. A holographic image of a colorful book materialized, and he scrolled dramatically through the options. “Ah, here we go. The Dragon of Nebula Seven. A classic.”

Liam giggled as Xander plopped onto the floor beside the bunk, crossing his legs and adopting an overly theatrical tone. The story came to life as he read, complete with exaggerated voices and sound effects. The boy’s earlier questions seemed to fade into the background, his laughter filling the small cabin.

I leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching the scene unfold. Xander’s ridiculous antics never failed to lighten the mood, but my own mind refused to quiet. Liam’s question echoed in my thoughts. Electric blue eyes. A man who had once held my fate in his hands. A man I had hoped never to see again.

My fingers clenched into fists at my sides as I tried to push the memories away. The way he had looked at me earlier—like he still had some claim over me—made my stomach churn. I had worked too hard to carve out a semblance of freedom, even as a slave on this ship. Seeing him again felt like a cruel joke from the universe.

“...and the star knight said, ‘Let’s be friends instead of fighting!’ And the dragon said, ‘Deal!’” Xander concluded with a flourish, snapping me out of my thoughts. “And that, my dear Liam, is how the fiercest foes became the greatest allies. The end.”

Liam clapped softly, his eyelids drooping. “That was funny.”

“Funny is my middle name,” Xander said, ruffling Liam’s curls. “Now, time for you to power down, little buddy. No dreaming about electric blue-eyed men, okay? Just dragons and knights.”

Liam nodded sleepily, his small hand clutching the blanket. I stepped forward and leaned down to kiss his forehead.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” I whispered.

“Goodnight, Mom,” he murmured, his voice barely audible as sleep overtook him.

Xander stood and followed me out of the cabin, the door sliding shut behind us with a soft hiss. The corridor outside was dimly lit, the gentle hum of the spaceship’s systems the only sound.

“You didn’t have to do that,” I said, glancing at him.

“Do what? Be my charming, heroic self?” he teased, a lopsided grin on his face.

“Be ridiculous,” I countered, though my tone lacked its usual bite. “Thanks, Xander.”

His grin softened into something more genuine. “Anytime, Zeph. You know that.”

I nodded, my throat tightening as I turned and headed down the corridor. My destination loomed ahead—Ace’s quarters. The door was closed, but I knew he would be inside, poring over navigation charts or monitoring ship systems. I hesitated for a moment before pressing the panel to signal my arrival.

“Enter,” came Ace’s deep, commanding voice.

The door slid open, revealing the room beyond. Ace sat at his desk, his posture as rigid as ever, his sharp features illuminated by the glow of multiple holographic screens. He didn’t look up as I stepped inside, the door hissing shut behind me.

“Zephyr,” he said, his tone neutral. “What do you need?”

I took a deep breath, my hands clenching and unclenching at my sides. “We need to talk.”

That got his attention. He leaned back in his chair, his icy gaze locking onto mine. “About what?”

Ace’s expression didn’t shift as he leaned back, his electric blue eyes narrowing slightly. There was no warmth in his gaze, only the sharp, cutting edge of a man who had long since learned to shield himself from emotion. He folded his hands across his chest, his posture rigid and imposing, as if he were a judge waiting to deliver a verdict.

The glow of the holographic screens behind him cast eerie shadows over his chiseled features, highlighting the faint scar running diagonally across his jaw. It was a reminder of battles fought and won, of the price he had paid to command this ship and everyone on it. His lips were pressed into a thin line, devoid of any hint of a smile, and his tone, when he spoke, carried a chill that seemed to seep into the room itself.

“If this is about earlier,” he began, his voice low and clipped, “I don’t have time for emotional theatrics, Zephyr. Speak your piece quickly.”

I swallowed hard, resisting the urge to shrink under his piercing stare. Ace had a way of making you feel small, insignificant, like you were just another cog in the machine he controlled. He was meticulous, calculating, and entirely uninterested in anything that didn’t serve his purpose. Every movement he made was deliberate, every word chosen with precision.