33.

The silence of the spaceship felt suffocating as I paced the length of my quarters. The cold, metallic walls seemed to close in on me, amplifying the tension in my chest. My mind raced with the image of Xander leaving the ship, his promise to return with my son lingering in the air like a fragile thread of hope. Two days, he said. Two days.

But the waiting was unbearable.

I stopped by the window, my hands pressed against the icy glass as I stared into the vast expanse of stars. They looked peaceful, indifferent to the chaos within me. Xander’s departure had left me in a whirlwind of anxiety, and the fact that I was the only human among these alien beings made the weight of my situation all the heavier.

Suddenly, the door to my room slammed open with a force that sent a jolt of fear down my spine. I turned sharply, my breath catching when I saw him—Ace. His electric blue eyes, cold and unyielding, bore into me with an intensity that made my knees tremble.

"Where is Xander?" His voice was a whip, sharp and cutting, as he stepped closer.

I froze, my pulse hammering in my ears. I knew the truth, but fear chained my tongue. "I... I don’t know," I stammered, forcing the lie from my lips.

His gaze narrowed, suspicion etched into every line of his face. In an instant, he was in front of me, his tall frame towering over mine. His hand shot out, gripping my jaw with an almost bruising force. His touch was cold, his fingers brushing against my skin in a way that sent a shiver of dread through me.

"If I find out you’re involved in his disappearance," he hissed, his voice low and lethal, "you won’t make it out of here alive."

My eyes widened, and I instinctively nodded, though the movement was restricted by his iron grip. The threat in his tone was unmistakable, and I couldn’t suppress the tremble that ran through me. I arched back slightly, trying to free myself from his hold, but his grip didn’t loosen.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he released me, his gaze lingering on me for a moment longer before he turned and strode out of the room. The door slammed shut behind him, leaving me alone once more.

I rubbed my jaw, the lingering ache a stark reminder of his warning. My breath came in shallow gasps as I tried to steady myself. But the fear refused to leave. It mixed with the worry that had already consumed me, creating a storm inside my chest.

Pacing again, I clutched my arms, trying to hold myself together. My mind darted between thoughts of Xander, my son, and Ace’s piercing eyes. The tension was unbearable, the waiting torturous.

And in the silence that followed, I couldn’t help but wonder—what would Ace do if he found out the truth?

The room felt colder after Ace’s departure, as if his presence had leeched away the last bit of warmth. My legs moved on their own, pacing relentlessly. I tried to think of Xander’s face, of the promise in his voice, but Ace’s grip on my jaw and his sharp threat echoed louder in my mind.

The quiet didn’t last long.

A sharp knock on the door made me jump, followed immediately by Ace’s voice, calm yet laced with authority. "Zephyr, come here."

My stomach sank. I hesitated, staring at the door like it was a portal to doom. Seconds ticked by, and when I didn’t move fast enough, the door slid open. Ace stood there, his cold blue eyes fixed on me, a hint of impatience curling his lip.

"Didn’t you hear me?" he said, tilting his head slightly, his tone deceptively calm.

"I…" My throat tightened. "What do you need?"

His gaze didn’t falter. "I need you to make me something to eat. A sandwich will do."

For a moment, I blinked at him, incredulous. "A… sandwich?"

"Yes," he replied, as if I’d asked the most ridiculous question. "Now."

I opened my mouth to deny him, to remind him that I wasn’t here to serve him or anyone else. "I’m not—"

The sharpness of his glare silenced me mid-sentence. His eyes darkened, his expression hardening into a warning I couldn’t ignore. "I wasn’t asking."

The weight of his words pressed against me, and my resolve crumbled. Gritting my teeth, I nodded stiffly and brushed past him, my every step heavy with resentment as I made my way to the small kitchen area of the spaceship.

Ace followed, his presence looming behind me. I could feel his gaze on my back, unyielding and scrutinizing.

The kitchen was sterile and cold, much like the rest of the ship. I pulled out the ingredients, slamming each one on the counter a little harder than necessary. Bread. Meat. Vegetables. My frustration bubbled to the surface, but I kept my mouth shut, knowing better than to provoke him further.

"You’re awfully slow," he commented casually, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

I clenched my jaw. "If you’re so impatient, why don’t you make it yourself?"

The second the words left my mouth, I regretted them.

Ace straightened, his electric blue eyes locking onto mine with a glint of amusement and warning. "Careful, Zephyr," he said softly, his voice deceptively gentle. "You wouldn’t want to test my patience."

I swallowed hard, focusing on slicing the bread. My hands trembled slightly, but I forced myself to keep going.

"Do you always glare at your food like that?" he asked, his tone laced with mockery.

I shot him a brief glare, then quickly looked away when his smirk widened. "I didn’t sign up to be your chef," I muttered under my breath, but loud enough for him to hear.

"True," he said, stepping closer. I stiffened as he leaned against the counter beside me. "But since you’re here, you might as well make yourself useful."

I bit back a retort, focusing on assembling the sandwich. When I was done, I slapped it onto a plate and shoved it toward him, refusing to meet his gaze.

"There. Your sandwich," I said tersely.

Ace picked up the plate, examining the sandwich with a critical eye. For a moment, I thought he might complain or demand something else. Instead, he smirked again, that infuriating smirk that made me want to throw the sandwich at his face.

"Not bad," he said, taking a bite.

I crossed my arms, watching him eat with a mixture of irritation and disbelief. "Anything else you need?"

He looked at me over the rim of his sandwich, his expression unreadable. "Not for now. But stay close, Zephyr. I might need you again."

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving me standing there, fuming and frustrated.

As the door slid shut behind him, I exhaled a shaky breath. The encounter had left me rattled, but one thing was clear—Ace wasn’t someone I could underestimate. If I wanted to survive this, I needed to be smarter, quicker, and far less impulsive.