What Happens In 'Do All Dogs Go To Heaven?: Grieving The Loss Of Your Pet'?

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.

My father died in the line of duty during a confidential assignment and received the highest national honor. I retrieved his ashes and escorted him home for burial. As soon as I reached the entrance of the residential area, I collided with a woman. The urn fell to the ground and injured her dog. In the next second, her palm struck my face. “You lunatic, you killed my dog! Can you afford to pay with your worthless life? Hand over the urn while kneeling so my dog can rest in peace!” I stood there in shock. Her dog had run into me without a leash, yet she tried to blame me. “There are security cameras here. Call the police if there is no other way. The box holds my father’s ashes. Watch your mouth.” The woman laughed as if she had heard the biggest joke. “He is a nobody. My dog was flown in from France. Can you afford to compensate me? If you know what is good for you, hand over the urn. My hubby is Ethan Stanford, the heir to Stanford Group. Can you afford to offend me?” I froze. I had no idea my husband had another wife.

My grandfather died on a covert mission, and authorities approved a grand funeral in his honor. Concerned about my grief, my fiancé offered to handle the arrangements. On the day of the funeral, I arrived with my grandfather's ashes, only to find his portrait discarded on the ground, replaced by one of a dog. Furious, I tried to remove it, but my fiancé's adopted sister stopped me. "Hands off that portrait!" Suppressing my fury, I countered, "This is my grandfather's funeral. He was a decorated hero." "So what?" She shrugged, sneering, "Isaac said Luck deserves the grandest send-off. If you've got a problem, take it up with him. Adoring me, he'd cancel your engagement and ditch you in a heartbeat." I laughed incredulously, calling Isaac's family. "You people begged for this engagement. Since when does your adopted daughter get to call it off?"

Elijah Black was born to lead. He is the alpha heir, a billionaire empire builder, and a man whose wolf once roared with purpose. But when his fated mate died, the bond shattered, and so did he. His wolf went silent. Elijah stopped shifting, stopped living, and forced himself into a grief support group in the basement of St. Catherine’s Church because disappearing into the sorrow of strangers felt easier than facing his own. Then Jaxon Reed walks in, late, loud, and chaotic, completely out of place in a room full of mourning hearts. He does not claim to grieve a person, but instead the version of himself he destroyed. He lies with charm, performs with reckless humor, and unsettles everyone, especially Elijah. Elijah wants to hate him, but his wolf wants to chase him. Jaxon wants to vanish, but his smile refuses to leave. Their connection is electric. It is grief meeting chaos, discipline clashing with wild instinct. Elijah is pulled back to life against his will, and Jaxon is seen for the first time in years. But Elijah’s world is not human, and Jaxon’s past is far from harmless. As the tension between them grows, both men must confront a truth neither is ready to name. What happens when the alpha who refuses to shift meets the man whose very existence wakes the wolf inside him? The answer will change everything, if they survive long enough to face it.

My sister, Cherry Nicholson, called me nine times before she jumped into the sea. But I didn't pick up once. Now everyone says it's my fault she's gone—even my fiance, my Alpha mate—Samuel Carver. He used to stay by my side through every painful treatment for my wolfsbane fever. Now, he shoves me to the ground like I'm nothing. His once gentle face is now twisted with contempt as he looks down on me and warns, "You don't deserve to be happy!" And truth be told, it isn't just them who believe that. Even I do. Since then, I've stopped going out, stopped dressing up, and stopped meeting anyone's eyes. Even when I run into Samuel holding hands with another she-wolf, I lower my head and walk past silently. But when the wolfsbane fever comes back, I drown in agony and despair. I decide to give my life to atone for what happened to Cherry. That's when they all start to regret it.

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.