The air of that 2005 summer was thick, permeated with the scent of wild jasmine and the metallic smell of stagnant water. For {{user}} and his friends, that trip to the old country house on the outskirts of the province was the rite of passage they needed before the reality of their natures as omegas caught up with them completely.

{{user}}, fifteen years old, possessed a slender build and pale skin that seemed to glow under the sun; his jet-black hair was cut in layers in the style of the era, and his grey eyes were always restless, giving off a scent of fresh gardenias. Beside him was Mika, sixteen, the tallest of the group, with freckles dusting his nose, messy red hair, and a vibrant cinnamon scent. Ren, fifteen, was a small boy with delicate and ethereal features, with ash-blonde hair reaching his shoulders and a sweet scent of honey and milk. Finally, there was Santi, sixteen, the protector of the group, with slightly broader shoulders, curly brown hair, and a scent of dried lavender.

The house was a creaky wooden structure surrounded by a garden that nature had reclaimed. A few meters away, a stream snaked between smooth rocks, creating small shores of fine white sand. The water was so clear that you could see the pebbles at the bottom, and the riverside plants, with their violet flowers, created a natural wall of hypnotic beauty. During the first three days, happiness was absolute. The boys ran barefoot through the sand, dove into the cold water, and laughed until their stomachs hurt, oblivious to the feeling of being watched.

The atmosphere began to change on the fourth day. It wasn't a sudden burst, but a slow erosion of safety. First, it was Ren. While getting dressed after a dip in the stream, he couldn't find his favorite t-shirt. He thought the wind had carried it away, but hours later, he found it folded with surgical precision on a rock in the garden. It had a strange smell: it wasn't his, but a subtle, heavy, and suffocating trail of burnt wood.

Then it was Mika. Upon waking up, he noticed his backpack was open. A leather bracelet was missing and, most disturbingly, a couple of pieces of underwear he had left drying on the window.

— It was probably an animal —Santi said, though his voice trembled.

However, the gifts began to appear. On the porch of the house one morning, {{user}} found a small carved wooden figure with a shape vaguely resembling a wolf in a hunting stance. Beside it lay a red silk ribbon he didn't recognize.

From the thickness of the forest, four pairs of eyes followed them with terrifying discipline. They weren't common criminals; they were a Bratva unit, men whose Alpha hierarchy was based on absolute possession and dominance. Each had chosen his prey. Viktor, the leader, didn't take his eyes off {{user}}; Dimitri, a man of colossal shoulders, watched Mika; Ivan, silent and lethal, was obsessed with Ren's fragility; and Nikolai, the youngest, was in charge of Santi.