Grantchester Season 11 Novels & Stories

“You belong to me, Aria,” he growls, his nose brushing against mine. “The harder you push me away, the deeper I fall into this madness of wanting you.” “You don’t even want a mate!” I remind him, hating how small my voice sounds, and how my body sings whenever he’s this close. His breath brushes against my lips. “You’re right. I don’t. But I burn for you, Aria, and I don’t think I’ll make it through the season without tasting what’s mine.” ***** They call Ryder Drexel the Ice King of Ironclaw University, captain of the undefeated Iron Wolves, cold-blooded on the rink and untouchable off it. He doesn’t do distractions. He doesn’t do relationships. Until her. Aria Murdock is the opposite. She’s an invisible scholarship student hiding secrets that she’s spent her entire life hiding—she’s a wolf who can’t shift in a world where wolves like her are called runts and are mercilessly killed to be rid of their weak bloodline. But when an accident reveals her true scent, Ryder’s world fractures. She’s a walking death sentence. Someone undesirable to most. Off-limits because of her low rank and bloodline. And she’s his mate. Now, the Alpha heir has a choice. He can either reject the bond, or risk everything to claim her. The problem? Claiming her means breaking every rule and starting a war within his own pack. It also means revealing who Aria truly is, and she’s so much more than a runt. They’re enemies by nature, but bound by instinct and fate. In a world where packs, rules, and reputations reign, claiming her might just cost him everything, especially his heart.

For three years, I slept with my father’s head of security behind everyone’s back. Last night, with one hand at my throat and the other under my dress, he finally asked for a name, a future, something real. “After graduation,” I whispered against his mouth. “Let me finish my defense first. Then we’ll tell them.” “No.” By then I was shaking beneath him on the leather seat. “Then sooner. On my birthday next Friday. I’ll stop hiding then... Cassian, please—gentler...” That seemed to satisfy him. His mouth softened against my skin, and his voice dropped low against my ear. “Good girl. I just want you too much.” The next afternoon, I met my best friend for tea. The moment she opened the passenger door, she spotted the torn foil packet caught beside the seat and lifted a brow. “Bourbon cherry?” she said, already grinning. “That’s our company’s unreleased line. So this is what you’ve been hiding.” I snatched it up and shoved it into my bag. “It’s not public yet.” She frowned. “That’s the strange part. We only sent those samples to a handful of VIP clients.” Then she pulled out her phone. “I did a product follow-up with one of them yesterday, and his private account was basically a shrine to his girlfriend.” She turned the screen toward me. I only looked once, and my whole body went cold. The man in the photo had a line of Latin script inked low across his abdomen. I knew that tattoo. I had kissed it the night before. My fingers started shaking as I opened the private account Cassian had never shown me. April 4. The conservatory. Me and him. April 7. The upstairs studio. Me and him again. April 11—last night. A six-second clip in the back of the car.

Ariel Marie Morrison is 18 years old. When she was just 10, she lost her parents in a tragic plane crash. They were on a business trip to New York when their flight, the first to hit the World Trade Center on September 11, 2001, claimed the lives of her parents and 158 other passengers. Afterward, Ariel was taken in by her Uncle Steve, her father’s twin brother, and Aunt Diane, her mother’s best friend. Ariel had always dreamed of attending Harvard University, just like her parents, who often spoke fondly of their time there. Determined to follow in their footsteps, she earned a full scholarship to study English Literature. On her first day on campus, dressed in her best outfit and wearing her mother’s pearls, she crossed paths with the infamous Knight Brothers and their crew—an encounter she would soon wish had never happened. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said gently. “Watch where you’re going, nerd!” came a deep, mocking voice. “Yeah, sweetheart, watch it,” another chimed in. “Umm… excuse me?” she replied, disbelief in her tone. Laughter erupted around her as she felt dizzy and her throat tightened—panic setting in. Needing to escape, she quickly walked away, though she could feel three pairs of eyes on her. Austin, 18, Dustin, 19, and Justin, 20—the Knight Brothers—were the quintessential All-American golden boys: football stars, wealthy, arrogant, and adored by many. Every girl wanted them, and every guy wanted to be them. But when they set their sights on the sweet, shy, and innocent Ariel, they began treating her like property, possessive and controlling, even though she had never wronged them. The teasing, bullying, and name-calling began. Would Ariel stay quiet and play the part of the “good little nerd,” or would she find the courage to stand up to the Knights?

To save his childhood sweetheart, who had a congenital heart condition, my husband tricked me into signing an organ donation agreement. Then he got into a truck and ran me over right in front of the hospital. Barely clinging to life, Elliot Carter tore my heart from my chest. When my body was wheeled out of the operating room, Alan Yates came crashing to my side like a man gone mad. Seeing the gaping hole where my heart used to be, he screamed and wept: "I'm sorry… I was too late… If there's another life, I'll never let you suffer like this again…" Tears fell exactly where my heart had been, and somehow, I even felt a flicker of warmth. He spun around and ran back into the operating room. When he came out again, Elliot and Jessica Foster were lying in a pool of blood. Alan, meanwhile, had slashed his own wrist to die with me. On his deathbed, he ordered that we be buried together. Then I opened my eyes. I had been reborn. Before me stood Elliot, dressed in a wedding gown, holding a bouquet, and proposing. I flung the flowers in his face and turned to embrace Alan in the crowd. However, only a year and a half into our marriage, he changed. Alan began openly pairing up with Jessica, letting her move into our home. Worse, he claimed that our cat's mating season had disturbed Jessica's sleep, and so he allowed her to run over the cat I had raised for seven years. I could not believe it. This was not the man who had loved me so deeply in my previous life. My eyes blazing, I demanded, "What's wrong with you?" However, Alan's gaze was icy. "Nothing. I just don't love you anymore."

My husband, Theo Hudson, is known for being very frugal. After marrying him, my only hobby is to keep buying branded bags, just to get back at Theo for being extremely stingy with his money. When our son, Oliver Hudson, is seven years old, he has successfully inherited the tendency to be overly frugal from Theo. Both father and son look very out of place in the sprawling manor. I, on the other hand, love wearing anything from the haute couture selection of the season while admiring the heartbroken expressions on Theo's and Oliver's faces when they see the bill. But one day, live comments begin streaking across my eyes. "Wait, this wasteful woman is still splurging on bags? Does she have no idea that her husband's company is about to file for bankruptcy?" "The poor male lead has already worn his T-shirt so many times to the point it's starting to fray just to sustain that vampiric wife of his! Thank goodness the female lead, who's brilliant with finances, is about to enter his life!" "I shall wait for Theo to bring up divorce and kick that useless hag who does nothing but spend his money out of his life! Let's see how she's going to fight for scraps with the strays beneath the bridge in the future!" I'm so shocked that I hurl the limited Hermes bag I was clutching in a random direction. Unfortunately, Theo, who's crouching on the floor while opening the packages for me, and Oliver, who's flattening the boxes by stomping on them, get hit by the bag. Scared out of my wits, I quickly snatch the cardboard from Oliver's hands and hug it tightly. "I… I'm not buying these bags anymore! Let's get a refund! But keep the cardboard boxes and don't sell them! I… I want to use them as makeshift mattresses for when we're about to sleep under the bridge in the future…"

My boyfriend came from a wealthy family. We had been together for seven years, yet he had never given me a single gift. When he proposed, he even asked for the diamond ring back so he could return it for a refund. Later, when we were about to register our marriage, he complained that the paperwork fee was too expensive and said it wasn’t necessary. However, not long after that, he registered his marriage with his childhood sweetheart instead. He even booked the most luxurious hotel in the entire city, eager to throw a grand engagement party. The shock was too much for my grandmother, and she suffered a heart attack. I dropped to my knees and begged my boyfriend to return the salary I had entrusted to him over the years, as I needed the money to pay for my grandmother’s surgery. He simply wrapped his arm around his childhood sweetheart and pretended not to know me. He said he would never help a lazy beggar who only knew how to freeload. Then, he ordered the security guards to throw me out. Later, my grandmother died on New Year’s Eve, her final breaths drowned out by the sound of fireworks outside. While everyone else celebrated the holiday season, I handled my grandmother’s funeral alone. At the same time, I accepted a job offer from a major overseas company. When I returned home to get my passport, the man—who had just finished introducing his sweetheart to his parents and was clearly in a good mood—saw me and assumed I was still throwing a tantrum. For the first time, he spoke generously. “Alright. What could possibly have happened to your grandmother? At worst, I’ll make it up to you with a luxurious wedding.” What he didn’t know was that from the moment my grandmother took her last breath, I no longer wanted to marry him.

My fated mate rejected me, but Roman Blackwood the bad boy alpha rejected his fated mate for me. "You're mine Mirabelle." A jolting pleasure skidded down my spine as his deep rough voice sounded beside my ear along with his searing breath that set my skin ablaze.  My breath was heavy, my senses incredibly heightened, I was cornered against the wall staring into the deepest grey eyes. I could smell him, feel him, my heart was racing and my wolf was responding. Jitters of heat trailed my skin, I could feel them deep in my veins knotting down in my stomach. The red moon had passed, and the heat was rising among the clan, it was the season to breed, and my body was extremely sensitive especially in the presence of this werewolf. "You can't run from it, you can't deny it, you're mine." His rough fingers grazed my face and I shuddered shutting my eyes to hide the turmoil of emotions within. "I'm not your mate Rome." My wolf made a protest within. I wasn't his mate, but my heart body and soul wanted him! His arms lowered down, I could feel them wound around my waist aggressively pulling me towards him. 'Please don't do this...' I wanted to plead, 'I can't hold back!' "Look at me fawn" My heartbeat skipped, his intoxicating scent drew me in with an undeniably captivating allure, I couldn't look away, nor could I deny the strong emotions binding me to him. I was his...how could I keep denying that? "I told you last time, deny me again and I'll let the whole world know that you're mine." But even though my body ached for him... I'd have to turn away, for Roman Blackwood was the only man I couldn't have.