What Happens At The Ending Of My Life In Dog Years?

Her mate and her best friend betrayed her. She realises that he never loved her. She learns that he was the one who killed her pack. And now he was going to kill her… She regrets not listening to Gavin, the only one who cared about her. The only one who was truly trying to protect her. The only true friend she really had. She regrets that she pushed him to his death. But it was too late…  Her mate succeeds in killing her, but then she was sent back in time to when it all began. Her loved ones were alive again. Her parents, her companions… even Gavin.  This time she was determined to save her pack from her enemies. She wasn't going to let Georgette and Michael prevail. She works with the only one she could trust - Gavin.  Little did she think she would find herself falling into the abyss of love again. And this time it's not Michael.

Lenora is the adopted daughter of an alpha family. As a child, she was deeply cherished by the family and showed signs of possibly having a gift, becoming the little princess of the entire pack. But as she grew up, after the alpha family’s biological daughter Eleanor returned, and everything changed. Lenora's talent inexplicably faded, and she couldn’t awaken her inner wolf upon adulthood, becoming the “wolfless” whom people said was “abandoned by the Goddess.” The hypocritical Eleanor, to secure her position, often framed Lenora, causing the alpha family to gradually resent Lenora and favor Eleanor. Lenora's former fiancé, Eric, also leaned toward Eleanor, dissolved his engagement with Lenora, and became ambiguously involved with Eleanor. The once-in-500-years sacrifice ritual is approaching, and without a volunteer, the entire pack may be endangered. The alpha family is frantic. Meanwhile, after being repeatedly framed by Eleanor, Lenora is deeply hurt by her once-loving family. Upon learning that, having come of age, she will be expelled from the pack like other wolfless, she chooses to volunteer as the sacrificial offering and will walk toward death in a month—to make one last contribution to the family she once loved most. But the alpha family doesn’t know about her choice; the identity of the sacrifice is strictly confidential. While they’re immensely grateful to the anonymous volunteer, they continue to despise and insult her, misinterpreting her recent solitary actions as betrayal. During this period, she suffers repeated emotional and physical harm. The family has several near-misses where they might discover her identity as the sacrifice, but misunderstandings prevent it each time. Meanwhile, after Lenora jumps, she slumbers for a long time. But at the bottom of the cliff, what lives there isn’t the so-called darkness, but a quirky monster (Mikael)...

On a stormy night during the apocalypse, my own mother threw me out of the house while I was burning with fever, along with my husky, so my little brother would have a better chance of surviving. She shouted through the crack in the door, “Take that useless mutt and go die somewhere. Stop wasting your brother’s food!” I huddled in a pile of trash with my dog in my arms, convinced I was going to die. Then my husky suddenly spoke. “Host’s vital signs critically low. Infinite Supply Search System activated.” “Supermarket warehouse one hundred meters ahead. Three thousand freeze-dried meals detected.” “Pharmacy five hundred meters to the left. Five hundred boxes of antibiotics detected.” Three days later, I’d built a fortress with packs of dogs and mountains of supplies. I sat inside eating steak and watching the show. Outside the barbed wire, my mother and brother were on their knees, fighting each other over half a piece of moldy bread. I smiled. “Mom, even dogs wouldn’t eat that. Better savor it.”

I stand before the grave of my late wife, Casey Hill, having repaid her debts for five years. When I return home, I realize that our dog, Pudding, has gone missing. It is the only memory Casey has left me. I search everywhere frantically, eventually finding it hovering between life and death in an alley. Standing at the side is a girl. She points at Pudding and laughs gleefully to her friends. "Are you guys seeing this? This little guy is tough. We've played with it for so long, and it's still breathing!" I shove her aside and pick it up, my eyes bloodshot. The blood on Pudding's fur makes my heart ache so much I can hardly breathe. The girl utters a yelp as she falls to the ground. Furious and embarrassed, she picks herself up and kicks me hard in the head. "You bastard! How dare you push me for this filthy little beast! Do you know who my mom is?" With my head spinning from the blow, I suddenly hear a woman's voice. "Jenna, what's wrong? Who bullied you?" I snap my head up. There it is, the face I have wished to see in my dreams for the past five years.

At my engagement party, a female dog was sitting on my fiancee’s seat. Her guy best friend, Ryan Anderson, was holding the leash. “Bro, don’t take it personally. Your fiancee drank too much the night before at her bachelorette party, that’s why I’m letting her sleep in for a bit longer.” Everyone looked at me mockingly as they laughed. I felt as though someone had slapped me. All the guests had arrived, but Lily Smith showed up late. “It’s our engagement party today. Are you asking me to marry a dog?” I asked as I suppressed my anger. Lily grabbed Ryan’s sleeve and glared at me impatiently. “What are you talking about? Ryan saw that I was too tired, so he let me rest for a bit longer. Are you seriously offended? “As my fiance, you should be more understanding, like him!” It felt ridiculous and wrong to me. My heart sank as I stood up. “Fine, since he treats you so well, you should marry him then!”

On Christmas Eve, my six-year-old, Yule, was dying from cancer, and all he wanted was a gift from his dad dressed as Santa. I called Peter, my husband, begging him to come. His reply? "Can you stop blowing up my phone? I don't have time for this! I'm helping Tracey find Puffy. Do you know how upset she is?" Oh, Tracey. His first love. And Puffy? Her dog. I told him Yule might not make it through the night. His response? A straight-up dagger: "Don't act like this isn't your fault, Freya. If Yule hadn't kicked Puffy, none of this would've happened. Tomorrow, make sure he apologizes to Tracey." Then he hung up. That night, I sat with Yule, crying as I helped him celebrate his last Christmas. By morning, Peter's social medias were still full of posts about that freaking dog. Mine? Yule's obituary. Ten years of marriage, gone.