Werewolves have never had an easy existence. The relationship between love and hate seemed to define every aspect of the werewolf pedigree from their time as immortal gods and into the mortal realm. Born or bitten, the one who bore the consequences soon learned: being a werewolf meant that curses are forever. To the gods of old human pantheons, Ophlupin was undefinable, for he was more than a mere shape-shifter. As he grew from infant and child, so did his power. As a teen, he discovered that he could move in and out of phase with reality. His father's wolf attributes conveyed to Ophlupin power, beauty, and strength, as well as the ability to harness the balance between the animal within and merge it with the everchanging moonlight. He was no ordinary god. He eclipsed the other gods by miles. In their fear and haste, the gods cursed Ophlupin, and all those men and women who followed in his footsteps. The gods did not anticipate that people would not fear him as they had. Soon, Ophlupin found ways around the gods' punishment and became a father. It appeared the werewolf curse could not be stopped. Until one day, a descendant fell. The werewolf line seemed at a standstill. Would the species survive this newfound use for their abilities by other half-gods and immortals?
