Help! I Became A Guy In A BL Novel!-Chapter 112: Delicious

After a moment, Ronan leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. "Can I ask you something?" ƒгeewebnovёl.com

Riven glanced up. "Sure."

"How did you end up in the Snow Leopard’s territory?" His voice was soft, but there was a subtle intensity behind it.

Riven looked down at the table for a moment, his expression growing distant. "It was after I ran away," he said slowly. "I did not know where to go, so I just kept walking. Eventually, I ended up in a town. Small, kind of like this one."

He shrugged and continued, "I was starving. I had been running for a while. I saw a bar and thought I might be able to get something—anything. But it was a mistake. It was one of those shady places where people don’t ask questions, and I didn’t have money. They figured I was an easy target."

Riven looked at the ceiling as if trying to remember the exact details.

"I think someone forced my hands behind me and tied them up. Next thing I knew, I was in a cage. I don’t know how long I was in that cage in that rattling carriage, but eventually, Soren bought me." Riven explained. Well, that was not fully accurate. Soren did not buy him from those men... They procured the ’item’ for Soren.

Ronan’s fists clenched on the table. "What was the name of the town?"

Riven blinked. "What?"

"The town. Where you were taken."

"I think it was called... Willow Bend? Something like that."

Ronan’s jaw tensed, a dangerous flicker passing through his eyes.

Riven didn’t notice it—not fully.

He was too focused on the smell of food! He was hungry!

"I will handle it," Ronan muttered.

Riven blinked again. "Huh?"

"Even if it’s not my territory, I’ll ruin them," Ronan said, almost absently, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. There was no heat in his voice—just quiet, terrifying certainty.

Riven tilted his head, finally catching the weight behind those words. There was a fierce, merciless rage in Ronan’s eyes, carefully reined in. He was being cautious, Riven realised. He was hiding it for Riven’s sake. Protecting him not just from the world, but even from his own anger.

But oddly, Riven didn’t find it frightening. If anything... It was HOT!

To have someone look at him like that, to be that furious on his behalf, to want to destroy the world for him—it made something warm coil in Riven’s chest. His lips tugged into a faint smile.

"I’m okay now, you know," he said gently. "You don’t have to go full Alpha rage."

Ronan blinked, caught off guard. "I’m not raging."

Riven giggled at that. Also, what did he mean by saying it was not in his territory?

Before Riven could ask, their food arrived. A waitress placed two sizzling steaks on the table, the smell of seared meat and herbs immediately filling the space. Riven’s stomach growled embarrassingly loud.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

Ronan reached for Riven’s plate before he could react, taking his knife and fork and beginning to cut up the steak into neat, manageable bites. "Eat slow. You’ll hurt your stomach if you go too fast."

Riven blinked, a little surprised—but then smiled again, his expression softening. "You always do that?"

Ronan gave a small shrug. "No..."

So it was only for him. Riven smirked. Ronan would not express his feelings well, that has always been his issue. Riven did not mind that too much. How boring would it be if all the male leads were similar?

Riven leaned his elbow on the table, watching Ronan slice the meat with practiced precision. "So this is what it’s like being with an Alpha, huh?"

"You’ll get to know more about what it’s like when we reach home." He said home too naturally. Riven understood that home meant Ronan’s mansion and not his father’s place.

Riven felt fuzzy. He picked up his fork and popped a bite into his mouth. It was tender and juicy, seasoned perfectly. He sighed in satisfaction.

He ate a lot of delicious stuff, Soren was particularly fond of stuffing him with yummy food so that he would have energy for when they eventually... Ahem.

Riven was halfway through his meal, humming in satisfaction as he savored a particularly juicy bite of steak. He realised how much he missed street food! He needed to have some the moment he goes back home.

The rich, herbed sauce clung to the meat, and a bit of it smeared onto the corner of his lips without him noticing. Ronan, seated right beside him on the cushioned bench, had turned slightly to watch him eat—clearly more interested in Riven’s expressions than the food itself.

"You really like it, huh?" Ronan asked, amusement in his voice as he propped his elbow on the backrest, facing him fully.

Riven nodded, chewing contentedly. "It’s so good. It’s better than anything prepared by fancy chefs."

Just as Riven turned to say more, Ronan leaned in. It was so natural, so smooth, that Riven didn’t register what was happening until he felt the warm pressure of Ronan’s mouth—not on his lips, but right at the corner, where a bit of sauce had lingered.

A slow, deliberate lick wiped it clean, and Ronan pulled back only a fraction, his breath brushing across Riven’s cheek.

Riven froze, eyes wide and heart suddenly doing an anxious little dance in his chest. The spot where Ronan’s tongue had been burned with heat, and he could feel the blush creeping up his face like a wave crashing in.

"Ronan..." he said, barely managing the name with a wobbly breath. "Did you just—"

Ronan was utterly unbothered, his lips quirking into a smug little smile. "There was sauce."

With his best attempt at a brave face, Riven swallowed the lump in his throat and tilted his chin up. "And... how did it taste?"

Ronan leaned in again, his nose almost brushing Riven’s, and said softly, "Delicious."