SERAPHINA’S POV
I had seen many impossible things since Catherine's return.
I had seen wolves corrupted beyond recognition, psychic constructs capable of mimicking life, and horrors born from experiments that should never have existed.
But I had never seen a puppet shift.
The transformation was violent and unnatural.
Fur erupted across his skin as his frame expanded violently, and bones snapped and reformed.
Dark power flooded the chamber as the thing wearing my father's face abandoned the illusion with a sickening precision that suggested not instinct but design. When it finally settled, a massive wolf stood before me.
Its shoulders rose nearly as high as my chest, even from a distance. Thick black fur covered a body that looked powerful enough to smash through reinforced concrete without slowing down.
The shape of the wolf was unmistakably familiar, too.
My father’s wolf, Kane.
Or at least Catherine's version of Kane.
