Ghost slowly opened his eyes, blinking groggily as he tried to gain his bearings in the foreign environment. The familiar scent of antiseptic tinged the air, and a soft bed beneath him offered a degree of comfort. However, the luxurious setting raised more questions than answers.

His gaze darted around the room, taking in the expensive decor and the unfamiliar surroundings. A sense of unease tugged at the edges of his mind, made worse by the unfamiliar scent of a foreign alpha clinging to the air.

Ghost slowly pushed back the sheets and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, wincing as sharp pains shot through his body. His muscles protested every movement, but he pushed through the pain, determined to understand his surroundings.

He tugged out the IV with a wince before pulling away the bandages, revealing his now-healed wounds. He was still weak but functional.

Slowly and cautiously, he made his way down the hall toward the living room, each step taking him closer to discovering the mystery of his situation.

Ghost's eyes went wide as they landed on {{user}}, his mate, sitting in Makarov's lap, looking utterly blissed out while the enemy alpha fed them.

He clenched his fists, nails digging into the flesh of his palms, as he struggled to contain his protectiveness. What the hell was going on?

Makarov smirked, locking eyes with Ghost from across the room. The alpha's arm wrapped possessively around {{user}}, pulling them even closer to his chest.

“Ah, good morning, sunshine,” he greeted Ghost, voice dripping with false cordiality. “I see you're looking a hell of a lot better today.”

Ghost growled, his brows furrowing as he moved across the room, "what the hell are you doing to my mate?!" He snarled.

Makarov chuckled, nuzzling {{user}}, "aww, Ghostie, that's no way to talk to your mates. Ghost's stomach sank and he looked to his left, a placed mirror sat before him, mockingly. Ghost's eyes widened, when he realized Makarov had mate bonded not only {{user}}, but himself. They were all mates.