Guarded by the Hybrid – Kindred Tales Read Online Evangeline Anderson

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Romance Tags Authors:

Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 74932 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)

Read Online Books/Novels:

Guarded by the Hybrid - Kindred Tales

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

Evangeline Anderson

Book Information:

A woman trapped in an abusive marriage
A Kindred warrior hired to guard her
As they grow closer, will Sark be able to give Isla up? Or will a secret part of him awaken and demand to keep her? Read Guarded by the Hybrid to find out.
Lady Isla Le’rank is trapped in a loveless, abusive marriage, all because she is a rare Moonstone goddess. But she cannot bear her husband an heir until her skin takes on the pearly, opalescent glow that means she is ripe for mating. Since her husband has failed to bring on the glow himself, he hires a Kindred warrior to help him.
Sark is a Hybrid—half Giant Kindred and half Ice Drake Kindred. He hires himself out as a Security Specialist to the rich and famous of the galaxy. But this latest contract is very strange—why in the Seven Hells would Lord Baslik Le’rank hire him to act as his wife’s bodyguard…and also massage her every night?
The contract is strange but the money is good—Sark takes the job. But when he finds that his new charge is as defiant as she is beautiful, the ice around his heart begins to melt.
Isla, for her part, finds that her body reacts to the touch of her new guard in a way it never did for her cruel husband. She begins to care for Sark and he begins to care for her, but he knows he can never have her—she is another male’s mate. But when she finally begins to glow, during a dangerous trip to the world of Fenushia, will Sark be give her up—or will a buried part of him awake and demand to keep her?
Books by Author:

Evangeline Anderson


From the diary of Lady Isla, wife to Lord Baslik Le’rank of Telmar Two of the Orinthian System:

The first time he hit me, I couldn’t believe it.

I was his beloved bride—his jewel beyond price. Wasn’t that what he said when he was assuring my Nana that he would care for me—that he would love and protect me always?

“Your granddaughter, Ma’dam,” he’d said, in that high, nasal voice of his, “Is a rare gem indeed. A Moonstone goddess—any man would be fortunate to possess her.”

Even then I should have known. The way he talked about me as an object—a possession—a prize. But Nana didn’t know better. All she saw was a rich, polite man of royal birth who was offering to give her granddaughter a life of wealth and luxury and safety.

None of those things were assured to us—Nana had raised me the best she could but the family fortune had dwindled, gambled away by my two uncles who didn’t give a damn for anything but pleasure. Nana and I got by as best we could on what was left, but we were down to almost nothing by the time Lord Baslik Le’rank found me.

We were in a one room flat when he did and though Nana and I kept everything scrupulously clean, there was no denying that the furniture was shabby and all of my dresses were worn and even my very best shoes had holes in them. But Baslik Le’rank politely ignored our poverty. He acted like we were dressed as richly as he was in his silver-skin suit and his cravat pin made of a priceless pink diamond bigger than my thumb.

He knocked on our door, a huge bouquet of honey blooms in his hand and a sly smile on his narrow face. I thought at the time that he looked rather like the animal we call a “sneak-thief”—a long furry creature with a pointed nose and small, beady black eyes that snakes its way through the treetops, stealing birds’ eggs from their nests and devouring them.

I wish now that I would have heeded that inner warning. The little voice that whispered that he couldn’t be trusted. But he was already charming Nana with his brilliant manners and the sparkle of the diamond cravat pin.

Back before my uncles had completely depleted our fortune, Nana had called in some favors from old friends and had gotten me admitted to Madam Lis’moth’s Finishing School for Accomplished Young Ladies. That, in addition to my rare genes, had given her hope I would make a good match. But nothing had come of it. Moonstone goddesses—so rare and prized in her own generation—had fallen out of fashion in mine. And all the fine education in the world could not make up for my family’s lack of wealth.

However, the school had at least retained my name and picture in their database, even after I graduated, and that, Lord Le’rank informed us, was where he had first seen my ‘lovely visage.’

“And your granddaughter is, indeed, what your people call a Moonstone goddess?” he’d asked, looking at Nana anxiously over the rim of the fragile porcelain teacup she’d served her famous knorsetooth tea in. It was one of the few nice things we had left—Nana had sold everything else to try and “keep body and soul together” as she put it. But she couldn’t bear to part with her porcelain tea service. It had been a gift given to her at her own wedding, more than half a solar century ago now.

She had lifted her chin, her faded eyes flashing.

“Isla is indeed a Moonstone goddess,” she said firmly, nodding. “As I was myself—the genes run in our line. We are a very old and respected family, Lord Le’rank.”

“Indeed, I am certain you are.” He had nodded obsequiously, carefully placing the fragile cup back on its saucer. “But Moonstone goddesses are said to be so very rare now. Is it true that the children of such a female always look like her mate?”

“Yes, for the Moonstone genes are all recessive—they don’t pass to males and only pass to every fourth female child,” Nana told him. “So any sons that Isla bears will certainly look like her husband—whoever he may be,” she added loftily.

“Yes, yes, of course. Such things are important to me, you know,” Lord Le’rank remarked. “I, too, come from an old and distinguished bloodline and it behooves me to try and protect our genetic legacy into the next generation. In fact, my father—who is the Prince of our realm—demands it.”

Looking at him, I wondered why he would want to pass on his narrow, weaselly face with its sharp, overlarge nose and receding jaw which made his upper teeth stick out like a shelf. But maybe he was rich enough that lots of people had told him he was handsome. At any rate, if he wanted children who looked just like him, he had certainly come to the right place. My own genes were almost all recessive, meaning they would contribute little to the looks of our child—if we had one together.