Help! I Became A Guy In A BL Novel!-Chapter 115: Warm

Troy did not add that Raphael looked relieved to be released but not for the reasons they thought. Freedom was something he did not care about. Being released from prison meant that Riven was back. For better or worse, he was at least safe. And Raphael was relieved.

He was a dog, a loyal one. Riven was his friend, he wanted to make sure he was safe. That was the only thing he asked Troy as he was getting released, "How is Riven?"

Before Troy left, Ronan asked him to inform the chef to prepare something light—preferably porridge or a gentle stew, nothing heavy on the stomach. Troy, sensing the unusual gentleness behind the command, nodded respectfully and disappeared down the hallway, his footsteps echoing in the vast mansion.

Ronan leaned back in his chair once Troy was gone. The candlelight flickered softly, casting long shadows across the stacks of parchment and unopened scrolls on his desk.

Normally, he’d have let the matters rest until morning, but with Riven under his roof now—his mate finally where he belonged—he wanted to ensure every last duty was attended to. He didn’t want to be disturbed the next day. He wanted time with Riven.

Time to learn each of his expressions, to listen to the subtle shifts in his tone, to memorize the scent that lingered in the air whenever he walked by.

He bent over the documents, redrafting old border agreements, reviewing recent patrol reports, and quietly issuing orders about reinforcing certain trade routes. His pack had been worried about his distractions lately, but Ronan could feel something different within himself now.

He wasn’t trying to please everyone anymore. He wasn’t bending to accommodate the elders’ traditions at the cost of his instincts. He wasn’t negotiating with doubt. He was the Alpha. And for the first time, he felt like it.

He was still in the middle of a report when a soft knock on the study door pulled him from his thoughts.

A familiar head peeked in. Riven’s black hair was tousled, his ears twitching slightly, eyes glowing faintly under the soft lighting. He looked far from sleepy—in fact, he looked refreshed, curious, and adorably pouty. Ronan’s lips tugged into a smile.

Riven blinked at him. "You’re still working?"

"I had a few things to finish," Ronan said quietly, putting down his pen.

Riven muttered something under his breath as he got out of bed. "That dog better not leave me again," he grumbled. He was annoyed seeing that he was the only one on the bed, alone again.

Before Ronan could respond, Riven crossed the room and without warning, slid onto his lap. Ronan instinctively opened his arms, one strong arm wrapping around Riven’s waist while the other adjusted the chair so they were both more comfortable.

Riven’s tail swayed lazily, brushing against Ronan’s cheek.

Ronan said nothing about the casual contact. Instead, he exhaled slowly, his breath fanning across the nape of Riven’s neck. "Not sleepy?" he asked, his voice low, hoarse with disuse. He didn’t know why, but Riven’s presence seemed to settle something restless inside him.

Riven shook his head, leaning slightly forward. "I’m actually kinda hungry."

"I figured as much," Ronan replied, eyes scanning over Riven’s face as if to memorise this particular expression—half playful, half vulnerable.

Riven tilted his head. "Did you already—?"

"I told the chef to prepare something light," Ronan interrupted. "Should be ready soon."

Riven smiled, clearly pleased. "You think of everything, huh?"

"I try," Ronan murmured, brushing his nose against Riven’s cheek. "Especially now."

The moment lingered between them. Ronan wasn’t sure what gave him more peace—holding Riven, feeling the warmth of his mate against him, or just knowing that Riven had chosen to stay beside him, even if only for a week.

His body relaxed, his shoulders easing as Riven curled against his chest. Riven leaned back and rubbed against Ronan’s chest, feeling extremely comfortable.

The silence was comfortable, interrupted by the occasional crackle of candlelight. Riven’s hands played absentmindedly with the edge of Ronan’s coat. "You’re warm," he mumbled.

"You’re freezing," Ronan responded, lifting Riven’s hand to his lips and kissing the knuckles lightly. "Still adjusting to the northern chill?"

"Maybe," Riven teased. "Or maybe I just need to cuddle more."

Ronan raised a brow. "Then stay here."

Riven’s ears twitched in mock scandal. "Alpha Ronan, are you trying to seduce me?"

"Not trying," he said with a smirk, "succeeding, in fact."

Riven laughed, that soft melodic sound that made Ronan’s wolf want to purr.

A quiet knock at the door interrupted them. This time, it was one of the house staff, holding a tray with steaming bowls of porridge, freshly cut fruit, and warm herbal tea.

Ronan nodded toward the side table. "Leave it there."

The servant bowed and exited quickly, careful not to disturb the two.

Riven slid off Ronan’s lap and walked over to the tray, sniffing the air. "Smells good."

Ronan followed him, taking one of the bowls and setting it on the table in front of the hearth. He patted the cushion beside it. "Come eat."

Riven joined him and sat cross-legged. Ronan carefully handed him a spoon and waited until Riven had taken a bite. When Riven hummed in approval, Ronan felt oddly pleased.

"You like it?"

Riven nodded. "Very much. The chef here is a good cook."

Riven quickly started to eat, the fire crackling nearby, offering warmth and intimacy. Every once in a while, Riven would glance at Ronan and find the alpha already watching him. Ronan simply drank the tea, he was not hungry... Well, not for food, but for a certain wolf.

"You keep staring," Riven said, half amused, half shy.

Ronan tilted his head. "I just like looking at you."

Riven looked down, ears twitching again. "You say that so easily."

"What’s more easier than being with my mate? It’s a primal instinct." Ronan said it, and he meant it.

Once Riven was done, he let out a contented sigh and leaned against Ronan’s warm body. "This was nice."