Help! I Became A Guy In A BL Novel! Chapter 26: How Could You Leave Me?

Ronan.

Riven scowled just thinking about it.

That man had used him, gotten what he wanted, and left.

Typical Alpha behavior. But Ronan was written to be different! So how dare he?!

Riven shouldn’t be surprised. He had just expected... Well, sothing. Maybe a goodbye, a pat on the head, or a "that was nice, let’s do it again soti" before vanishing into the night.

But no.

Ronan had vanished like a ghost, leaving Riven to wake up alone.

The worst part?

Riven knew why.

It wasn’t because Ronan was disgusted by him. No, that wasn’t the problem. Ronan didn’t mind responding to an oga’s call—in fact, he had clearly enjoyed it. But a mate? A permanent partner?

That would make him vulnerable.

And Ronan did not do vulnerable.

"Well, whatever," Riven muttered, stuffing the last of his things into his bag. "I didn’t want to be stuck with him anyway."

That was a lie.

But that was okay. Riven lied to himself all the ti.

For now, his next destination was Ronan’s estate.

Not because he wanted to see him (which he totally didn’t, thank you very much), but because it was the safest place to go until he figured out his next move.

Of course, he couldn’t stay there forever.

He’d have to leave before Ronan or his clan found out the truth.

Riven should have known better than to expect a proper send-off. His father didn’t even bother to see him leave. The old man probably thought it was a waste of ti, convinced that Riven would fail, humiliated and crawling back in disgrace. It was almost laughable. Almost.

But Riven had no plans of returning.

Still, he had at least expected Troy to be waiting for him outside. Instead, standing in his place was Julius, a storm brewing behind his sharp eyes. Riven frowned. The sight of him was enough to sap away the amusent that had been keeping him afloat during his ti of misery.

Being abandoned by Ronan was a big blow to his ego. He looked in the mirror enough to know how hot he was, how could anyone say refuse him?

"Tch. What do you want now?" Riven sighed, shifting his weight onto one leg, visibly unimpressed.

Julius said nothing, his jaw tightening as he stared Riven down. There was sothing unreadable in his expression, sothing simring just beneath the surface.

Before Riven could call him out for it, Julius grabbed him by the collar and yanked him forward, dragging him toward a nearby room with little effort.

Riven barely had a second to react before he was shoved against the doorfra. He let out a frustrated sigh, rolling his eyes. "Wow, déjà vu. You really need to get a new hobby, Julius. This whole dragging--into-rooms thing is getting old."

"Shut up," Julius snapped, voice sharp like a blade.

Riven’s lips curled into a smirk. "Touchy, touchy."

The tension in the air was thick—practically suffocating. Julius’s grip on his collar was tight, his knuckles white as his eyes darkened with sothing dangerous. And yet, Riven wasn’t afraid. He tilted his head slightly, watching the way Julius’s nostrils flared, the way his fists clenched at his sides.

Julius was furious. No—he was livid.

Riven opened his mouth to say sothing else, probably another taunt, but before he could, Julius moved. His hands shot forward, grabbing Riven’s wrists and pinning them to the door beside his head.

And then he kissed him.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t careful. It wasn’t like Ronan’s at all. Julius wasn’t trying to coax a response from him—he was taking it, demanding it, bruising with every movent of his lips.

It was anger, frustration, and sothing Riven couldn’t quite put into words. A growl rumbled from Julius’s chest as his teeth scraped against Riven’s bottom lip before sinking in hard enough to make Riven gasp.

He was punishing him.

Why was he getting punished so much?! What did he even do? So unfair.

Riven let out a quiet sound—part amusent, part sothing else. Julius pulled back for just a second, lips slightly swollen, his breathing uneven. His eyes burned into Riven’s, demanding an answer.

"You reek of him," Julius growled, voice thick with sothing raw. He wasn’t just angry—he was possessive.

Riven’s head spun, but he recovered quickly, his smirk growing. "And? What does that have to do with you?" His voice was teasing, but his breathlessness betrayed him.

Julius’s fingers twitched around his wrists, as if restraining himself from sothing worse. "You were mine first," he bit out, voice low and dangerous.

Riven blinked, was he right in the head? "When did that happen?"

Julius’s patience snapped. His lips crashed against Riven’s again, harder this ti, his hands tightening around Riven’s wrists as his body pressed forward, eliminating what little space was between them.

What could he do except take the hit this hot man was giving him? Besides, Julius seed to know how he would react, he quickly bound Riven the mont he attacked him with a kiss.

Julius was rough, unyielding, pouring everything he felt into the kiss—his frustration, his jealousy, his fury at Riven for slipping through his fingers. But buried beneath that, Riven could taste sothing else. Sothing desperate.

Riven was no fool. He knew what this was. Julius didn’t just want to punish him—he wanted to remind him. Remind him of what they once had, remind him of the fact that Julius had known him first, that he had been the one standing at Riven’s side long before Ronan ever entered the picture.

He seed to conveniently forget all the humiliation he put Riven through but it was not like Riven could raise concerns, his mouth was occupied.

For a split second, Riven almost let himself sink into it.

Almost.

But Julius made a mistake.

He hesitated.

It was brief—barely a second. But that second was all Riven needed.

Riven pulled back, his lips curling into sothing both smug and breathless. His voice was soft, teasing. "That’s all you’ve got?"

Julius’s eyes flickered, his grip on Riven’s wrists tightening. "Riven—" His eyes were filled with sadness and helplessness, like he was the victim. "How could you leave ?"