Bonded in War and Starlight (Claimed by the Morrak #1)

Chapter One

Serenya

The silver drone hovered just long enough for me to take the envelope it held, then zipped away before I could even look to be sure it was addressed to me. ‘Hale’ was scribed on the outside, but there was no other information on the creamy paper.

The card inside was thick, edged in gold filigree, making it seem like something that should have been delivered for my father. Despite my name confirming the drone hadn’t been wrong, I almost thought it had made a mistake.

“Morrak?”

The word felt familiar, like something I’d heard my father mention or seen on the news, but I couldn’t place it. Flipping the thick square, the back didn’t produce any other clues to clear my confusion.

I turned to walk back into the house but paused when I heard the crunch of tires on pavement. My father’s black SUV rolled down the drive, one of the few things he owned that wasn’t the latest and greatest. He had never trusted the hover vehicles that had become popular over the past few decades.

I waited for him on the porch as I puzzled over the invitation, reading it again. There wasn’t much information, but since he worked at the North American Alliance Building and was part of the UEA Council, he should be able to tell me what the Morraki Selection Gala was.

Pasting on a dutiful smile, I watched as his driver pulled to a stop at the bottom of the marble stairs leading up to where I stood.

I’d always thought the old colonial house, private driver, and all the pomp that he insisted on were a bit much, but we were Hales, and we were held to a standard that didn’t allow modesty.

Or that was what he claimed the one time I dared to voice my thoughts.

I watched his expression as he climbed from the back of the vehicle, looking for signs that he was in a bad mood.

He wasn’t the type to smile on the best days unless there was an audience, but his eyes got tight and his mouth grew thinner when things went wrong.

Luckily, his brows didn’t seem any more creased than usual.

“Hello, Daddy. How was your day?”

At thirty, some would have said I was too old to still be calling him Daddy, but he said it made him seem more approachable, and he certainly still thought of me as a child. I was still living at home because he thought I wasn’t ready to be out on my own.

“Filled with idiots and incompetence, but what else is new?”

I held my smile as I drew in a slow breath, the facade one I’d practiced for so long it was ingrained into who I was.

“Never show weakness. If they know they affected you, you’ve lost.”

Growing up with a military father hadn’t been easy, and it only became more demanding with each promotion he’d received. I’d thought things might get better once he was appointed General of the North American Alliance and elected to the United Earth Council, but if anything, the noose tightened.

“Oh, I see the invitation arrived. Your dress appointment is tomorrow afternoon. I already gave the shop the details, so they’ll have a selection of appropriate outfits for you to choose from.”

I almost let my brows dip but saved myself at the last moment. Usually I had more notice when he wanted me to attend an event with him, and only a single day to prepare for the discomfort of finding a dress to fit my generous curves felt too little, but there was another problem to face.

“I was curious about this. It only just arrived. What is the Morraki Selection Gala?”

He brushed past me, close enough I had to take a step back, but ignored the invitation I held out for him to see. If he recognized what it was with nothing more than a glance, it was guaranteed that he’d been the one to put my name on the list.

Without informing me.

“It’s just a party for the new alliance with those alien warriors.”

I knew my father better than to believe the words. The more he tried to play something off, the more I wasn’t going to like it, and nothing was ever just a party when elected officials were involved.

It didn’t matter though, because no matter what it was, I couldn’t go.

Curling my empty hand, my fingernails bit into my palm as I sucked in a breath and braced myself.

“I’m sure it will be great, but I won’t be able to attend.”

A chill went down my spine as my father stopped, his body angling until he could see me over his shoulder.

“And why not?”

He’d never liked being told no, and I usually did my best to go along with the things he asked of me, but this time I couldn’t.

I forced my lungs to expand again even though it felt like they were being squeezed in a giant fist.

“The gala is Saturday. The fifth…”

His expression didn’t change as I swallowed, and a piece inside me broke, although I tried to keep it from showing.

“June fifth,” I repeated.

My voice was a rasp and I tried to clear the lump in my throat. I had programmed the reminder into his calendar myself. A stupid part of me hoped he’d remember before I had to explain the importance of that date.

Again.

“The night I graduate…”

There was a fish flopping around in my chest, but I kept my smile in place as he let out a huff. Disappointing my father was something I seemed to excel at no matter how hard I tried to do the opposite, yet somehow I’d thought completing my master’s degree would be different.

He looked forward again, reaching for the doorknob as he responded.

“That’s unfortunate. You’ll have to miss it.”

My smile cracked, shock bleeding through onto my face.

“Miss the gala?”

The question was barely a gasp, and I knew better.

He’d told me from the time I started pursuing my degree that it was pointless, but I’d believed it was because he didn’t think I’d finish.

Getting through my bachelor’s and then accepted into the master’s program should have proved I was serious, but his attitude hadn’t changed. He didn’t care about my accomplishment.

As a soldier he’d seen a counselor himself, and as a leader he’d ordered others to visit one, so I had thought he’d appreciate the value of a mental health counseling degree.

I’d hoped achieving my master’s would finally earn a drop of pride instead of disinterest, but once again he proved nothing I did was enough.

“No, Serenya. You will be at the gala, at your best. I’m counting on you.”

The pain in my chest stole my voice, leaving me gaping at his back as he strode into the house and out of sight. I’d accepted that he might not attend my graduation the way he hadn’t for my bachelor’s, but being ordered to miss the most important night of my life was a blow I hadn’t prepared for.

Pressing a hand over my heart, I blinked back the sting of tears and walked inside, closing the door behind me.

I could hear him in his office, the click of his crystal decanter telling me he was at the sideboard, and I rushed across the foyer to the stairs before he could take a seat at his desk where he’d be able to see me.

I kept my head down as I retreated to my room, the world pulsing around the edges. My heart raced and I could barely breathe, but I fought the emotions wanting to overwhelm me.

Calm.

Deep breaths, in and out.

Release the circling thoughts, and let the mind go blank.

Studying counseling had been as much for myself as it was for any future patient I might see.

I’d been able to learn different techniques to control my own emotions, but my usual methods couldn’t stop the tremor in my hand as I turned the knob on my bedroom door, or stop the flood of moisture to my eyes when the first thing I saw was the photo of me in my cap and gown, holding my Bachelor’s degree.

Alone.

The other students who had walked the stage with me had been crowded by their friends and families, the room loud with echoes of congratulations as I’d slipped through once we were released.

My fiancé had broken things off with me the week before, when my father released a statement that conflicted with my fiancé’s political stance, so my tickets to the ceremony had gone unused.

I’d driven home and entered a silent house, my father in his office as usual, and barely received a grunt of acknowledgement when I informed him I was back.

Pressing my spine to the sturdy wood of my door, the tears spilled, painful memories slipping past my weakened defenses. All I’d ever wanted was his approval. A crumb of affection. A sliver of acknowledgment for me, not just North American Alliance General Hale’s daughter.

The crumpled invitation fell from my shaking fingers, drifting, unnoticed, to the beige carpet beneath my feet as I allowed myself to cry, purging the pent-up anguish.

Saturday night I’d be wearing a dress my father had approved, moving to the pull on my strings, deceptive smile on my face as if all was okay.

But for the moment, my real emotions were exposed.

I wallowed in my self-pity. Acknowledged my sorrow. Embraced the traces of righteous rage.

I told myself it was okay to be angry and imagined the responses I wished I was brave enough to give my father. Pictured the respect I might finally see in his eyes when he realized I was grown and could make decisions for myself.

Then I washed my face and hid it all away again. Packed it back into the box buried deep in my mind, promising it wouldn’t be ignored forever, just a little while longer.

It was one night. It was important to show support for a new alliance, and my father needed me there.

I could give up one night, then keep working towards my goal.

My plan was on track, the future laid out before me, and I only needed to hold out a little longer before I could have the life I dreamed of.