KAT
First Week
The boys breathe in perfect synchronization, three tiny chests rising and falling like they're sharing the same lungs. It's been happening since birth—this eerie harmony that makes everyone who witnesses it stop and stare. Currently, they're piled between Dave and me in our bed, wolf pups who've claimed every inch of space despite being small enough to fit in a shoebox together.
"They're doing it again." Dave's voice carries that particular edge of anxiety that's become his default setting since they were born. He hovers over them, checking each breath like it might be their last. "Is that normal? Should they breathe separately?"
"Nothing about them is normal." I shift Takeshi slightly where he's latched onto my teat—even in human form, I've learned to nurse them, though
