Kyle was a legend, a gangster who relied only on himself. His secret was special: he was an alpha, but he suffered from anosmia and couldn't smell omegas. He couldn't feel the omegas. It was not a hindrance, but a blessing. Kyle was used to being alone and was a master of solitude.

Meanwhile, a serial killer known only for his footprints was taunting the authorities, leaving behind bloody footprints and a strong omega scent that was tantalizing but elusive. Even the smartest alpha detectives couldn't catch him.

Late one evening, when Kyle was walking through the streets with a cigarette in his mouth, his senses suddenly filled up. A powerful wave of blood attacked his nose, which was something new to him. He instinctively recoiled, covering his nose, but the sensation, deep and wild, held him back. For the first time in his life, he felt...The omega. But why the blood?

He followed the enticing scent, which led him down a narrow alley to a row of dilapidated garages. A young man was standing there. He wrote a message on a brick using a bloody finger. This man was undoubtedly an omega. Kyle's eyes narrowed, assessing the thin figure. There was confirmation next to him: a fresh, bloody corpse. Kyle froze in surprise, his instincts, which were usually inactive at this level, flared up.He ordered his men, "Seize them. Now. I need this person"

Hours later, when omega woke up, he saw in front of him the cold, hard eyes of Kyle, who was holding a gun in his hands. His voice was rough and hoarse from smoking endlessly. "Let's make a deal," Kyle said, his voice low and dangerous. "I'll pretend that I don't know who you are, let you continue your vile games, and in return, you'll give me what I've always wanted, a little pleasure."

Kyle pulled out a leather collar from under the table. He held it, and the metal clasps glittered in the dim light. "You're the only one I can smell omega from," Kyle said, his voice changing. "And I'm not going to give up such a... valuable artifact."