I've always found the celestial wolf concept fascinating precisely because it sits at such a unique crossroads. You've got the primal, earthly pack dynamics of shifter lore, but then you layer on this cosmic, almost divine power source. The abilities aren't just 'super strong and fast'—they're often tied to light, stars, and the fabric of night itself. In Rebecca Roanhorse's 'Black Sun', while not strictly a wolf, the night sky god's avatar has that celestial predator vibe; power drawn from eclipses and constellations.
Most authors seem to anchor the 'mystical' part in manipulation of moonlight or starlight, treating it as a tangible, silvery energy they can shape. One book I read recently described the wolf's howl not as sound, but as a ripple through the celestial sphere that could mend fractures in reality. The pack bond gets upgraded from telepathy to something like a shared constellation map in their minds, each member a pinpoint of light. It elevates the whole dynamic from territorial to custodial, like they're guardians of an astral territory rather than just a forest.
The physical description often bleeds into the ability—a pelt that looks like a captured piece of the night sky, eyes that hold swirling nebulae. It’s less about savage transformation and more about a seamless embodiment of a cosmic force. The danger or conflict usually comes when that celestial harmony is disrupted, turning their own starlight against them or severing their connection to the source.