CHAPTER 497: SNOW’S DISGUISE

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Chapter 497

~Snow’s POV~

Following Glacier’s advice, I left the restroom quietly and returned to my room to change. I slipped into a loose black hoodie and pulled the hood up carefully, making sure it covered every bit of my fading hair.

I rummaged through my pack until I found the pair of reading glasses I barely used—tinted enough to dull the glow in my eyes.

I studied myself in the mirror again.

The disguise worked. Mostly. I still didn’t recognize the man staring back. But he looked enough like me to pass.

My stomach twisted again—less from pain and more from the pressure of secrets piling beneath my skin.

I inhaled deeply, tucked my hands into my pockets, and walked back to the meeting room.

The conversation had already resumed, the other Alphas standing in a semi-circle around the digital map, discussing tactical placements.

As I walked in, every head turned.

Alexander raised a brow, Draven paused mid-sentence, and Zeno tilted his head as if trying to decode what I was wearing.

Xavier, ever perceptive, narrowed his eyes slightly but said nothing.

I grinned, adjusting my fake glasses as I slid into place beside them. "Don’t mind me. I’ve been on the road for days, traveling between packs. I guess I’ve developed a cold or something. My eyes aren’t so good right now. They hurt."

Draven’s expression softened immediately. "We’ve indeed stressed you. It is understandable if you want to sit this one out and rest."

I shook my head. "No. I’ll see it through. And by tomorrow, I plan to make one last trip home."

"To your wife," Alexander quipped with a smirk.

The entire room chuckled, and I found myself smiling in return as I shoved my hands deeper into my hoodie pockets.

"Alright," Xavier said, glancing between us all. "Let’s carry on. And Snow—thank you. I really appreciate the effort you and Zara are putting into this."

I nodded. "We’re all in this together."

The planning resumed. Tension lingered in the air, but the mood had shifted slightly—lighter, easier, like the bonds between us had deepened. And by the time the final notes were saved and the tactical overlays shut down for the evening, someone—Zeno, of course—suggested we blow off steam before nightfall.

"Let’s not go to bed with spreadsheets swimming in our heads," he said. "I vote for an alpha-level outdoor brawl. You know, keep the egos in check."

"Or inflate them," Alexander muttered.

"Same thing," Zeno grinned.

Surprisingly, Xavier agreed. "Fine. The weather’s good. Let’s use the east field. There’s gear and space, and Alpha Killian’s just arrived. Might as well let him join in."

"Killian’s here?" Draven blinked. "He made it?"

"Got in during the last hour," Xavier nodded. "He’s warming up already."

By the time we reached the field, Alpha Killian—broad, tall, and always dressed like he just stepped off a fitness magazine cover—was stretching with a few of Xavier’s elite guards. He flashed us a grin.

"Gentlemen," he said, cracking his knuckles. "Ready to find out who’s the slowest Alpha in the kingdom?"

"You mean besides you?" Zeno teased.

We broke into teams. Nothing too serious, just a hybrid of tag and endurance trials designed to test speed, agility, and reflexes.

Xavier’s estate was equipped like a pro-athlete’s dream—multi-terrain zones, obstacle courses, and digital scoring boards.

I didn’t remove my hoodie.

They made fun of me for it. I laughed it off again, muttering something about catching a chill. Still, when the whistle blew, I launched myself into the match like nothing was wrong.

The game was fierce—Alpha egos weren’t built to lose.

The game began with an easy sprint. Just a warm-up round—or so they thought.

Alpha Killian shot forward like a cannon, darting through the obstacle zone with fluid speed. Draven ghosted to the left, barely making a sound as he moved with precise, calculating steps. Alexander wasn’t far behind, weaving through the poles with surprising agility for someone a decade older. Zeno crashed straight into the course with all the grace of a tank, clearing barriers with sheer muscle rather than finesse.

And me?

I let them think I was playing catch-up.

I kept my hood low, my movements measured. I didn’t want to draw too much attention too soon. But the energy building inside me—it was impossible to ignore. It wasn’t just adrenaline. It was... sharper. Clean. Electric. Like my limbs weren’t bound by the usual fatigue or hesitation. My senses felt heightened. I could hear Killian’s breath pattern change when he slowed for a corner. I could predict Alexander’s next step just by how his foot slid over gravel.

By the second round, the terrain changed. Muddy inclines, rope walls, high jumps. The course rotated challenges faster now, forcing instinct to take over.

Zeno grunted behind me as he misjudged a turn, crashing into the low barricade. "Damn wall’s lower than it looks."

I vaulted clean over it, barely breaking stride.

Killian was in front—at least, for now.

But then came the aerial rings.

I leapt. My hands caught the metal bars and I swung my body with fluid ease, skipping every second ring. It was too slow otherwise. I landed hard on the next platform, crouched, then launched forward again. Killian cursed behind me as he swung, slightly off-timing one of his grips.

Draven narrowed his eyes as I passed him in the agility sprint. "Been training secretly, Snow?"

I didn’t answer. I didn’t need to.

At the final mark—a timed sprint through a shifting maze of tall steel gates—I didn’t slow down. The gates weren’t just obstacles. They were programmed to change every five seconds, closing one route while opening another. It was a reflex killer.

I felt the others behind me hesitate, recalculating their paths.

But I didn’t stop.

I trusted the pulse thrumming through my veins. I let instinct take the lead. Feet silent, breath steady, eyes scanning faster than I could think—I weaved through the gates like the damn system had been made for me.

When I burst through the final checkpoint, the sensors pinged with a crisp chime and the scoreboard lit up.

#1 – Alpha Snow – 5:42

#2 – Alpha Draven – 6:01

#3 – Alpha Killian – 6:14

#4 – Alpha Alexander – 6:25

#5 – Alpha Zeno – 6:42

Silence followed. Then Killian let out a low whistle.

"Well, damn."

"Tell me that time is a glitch," Zeno groaned, hands on his knees.

"No glitch," Xavier said, stepping toward the board with raised brows. "That’s legit. He beat everyone by a full eighteen seconds. That’s not just fast. That’s... terrifying."

Alexander clapped once, clearly impressed. "And here I thought you were just pretending to be quiet and cold for style points."

Draven gave me a look—half smirk, half suspicion. "Hoodie on, shades on... and still bested us all. What’s under all that, Snow?"

"Talent," I said, flashing a tired grin. "Old-fashioned grit. Got it from Pops."

But I could feel the subtle shift in the air. They knew something was off. And yet, none of them pushed.

Instead, Zeno trudged toward me and pointed accusingly. "You ever lose at anything?"

"Plenty, particularly to my mate’s charms," I said, adjusting my hoodie as I caught my breath. "Just... not today."

They all laughed, the tension breaking.

Killian reached over and clasped my shoulder. "You’re a freak of nature, Snow. Total beast."

"Remind me never to challenge you to a race again," Alexander muttered, wiping sweat from his brow.

We stood there for a while, catching our breath, basking in the kind of high only a physical match between alphas could bring. No politics. No wars. Just pure and raw strength.

I felt good, alive. Even if I was hiding something from them, in this moment, I was still one of them, their equal, their brother.

And right now... they’re the winner, but the power burning inside me wasn’t done and neither was the truth that would soon demand to be revealed.

While the others scattered around for a drink of water or juice and some for steak, I was suddenly breathless as the energy within me began to pulse heavily now. I leaned forward, resting my palms on my knees, head down as I tried to steady my breathing.

And that’s when it happened.

The hood slipped back.

The cool wind swept across my neck, and I didn’t even realise it or think too much about it as I welcomed the fresh air until the hush hit me like a wall.

I looked up.

Draven stood across from me, his gaze locked onto the back of my head and when I looked at his eyes, I could see the strands of bright blue reflecting in his eyes. It was now fully visible at the back of my head.

He took a slow step forward, eyes narrowing.

"Snow," he said cautiously, "there’s something going on with you... Isn’t there?"

I blinked, slowly pulling my hood back up, trying to mask the flicker of panic.

"What do you mean?" I asked, attempting to be casual.

But his sharp gaze didn’t falter. Alpha Draven moved closer, catching the angle of my face just right, just enough for the dying sunlight to hit my eyes.

And he saw it.

The glow. The violet blue that wasn’t supposed to be there.

"Your eyes," he said softly, almost to himself. "They’ve changed. You’re shifting? Or is this... contact lenses or something?"

I sighed and dropped the act. How long could I fool an alpha? Besides, I didn’t want this ruining the trust I was trying to build with them.

"No," I said in a low voice. "No contacts. And I’m not shifting—not like we know it. I don’t know what this is. It started as flickers, flashes in the mirror. But now it’s become... permanent."