(Catherine POV)
My fingers sank into fur so thick it felt like silk warmed by firelight. The texture was nothing like I'd expected—not coarse or wiry like the hunting dogs Father had kept, but dense and soft in ways that spoke of supernatural vitality rather than mere animal nature.
The wolf—Kieran—held perfectly still under my touch, muscles coiled with restraint that must have cost him everything. I could feel the power in his transformed body, the strength that could snap bones without effort, yet he remained motionless as I explored this impossible reality with trembling hands.
"Your fur," I whispered, running my fingers through the midnight-dark coat. "It's so soft."
A sound rumbled in his chest that might have been laughter or pleasure, too complex for simple animal communication
