Help! I Became A Guy In A BL Novel!-Chapter 135: His Choice

"They’re the elders," Troy said in a hushed, panicked voice, leaning in closer to Ronan, as though that might soften the blow. "They said they want to meet Riven."

Ronan, who had just stepped out of his chambers, froze for a second.

"I—I didn’t know what to do!" Troy stammered. "They caught me on the way here. Said they knew Riven was with you and demanded an audience. I tried to say he wasn’t available, but they looked like they were already angry, really angry. And—and I kind of... Might’ve implied that I’d go talk to you and get back to them."

Ronan exhaled, jaw clenched.

"Troy," he said slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose, "go back and tell them to leave. Right now."

Troy blinked. "Wait—just like that?"

"Yes," Ronan said, unwavering. "Tell them I refused. He’s not meeting anyone."

"I—I get that, but..." Troy hesitated, visibly uncomfortable. "It’s the elders, Ronan. The elders. They’re not exactly the kind to just leave quietly. They looked angry already, and when they find out you’re turning them away—"

"So what?" Ronan snapped, his voice rising for the first time. "Let them be angry. I do not care about what they want."

Behind the door, Riven had pressed his ear against the wood the second he’d heard Troy’s voice outside. Now, his breath hitched as he listened.

The elders.

Them.

His heart beat faster. His back slid down the wall until he was sitting on the floor, arms around his knees, fingers digging into his skin. His wolf instincts screamed at him to run, but his body was frozen. Cold dread spread like frost across his skin.

Those elders. The ones who killed him.

In the original story, they’d seen him as an abomination—a male omega, half-wolf, something that should never have existed.

And now they were here.

They were here for him.

He squeezed his eyes shut, knees pulled to his chest. ’He better protect me,’ he thought. He wasn’t ready. He didn’t want to face them.

Please, don’t make me.

"I don’t care what they think," Ronan was saying outside, his voice firm and unwavering. "All I care about is what Riven thinks."

Riven’s breath caught in his throat.

"If he doesn’t want to meet them," Ronan continued, "he won’t. And if he does... I’ll protect him."

Troy hesitated. "You’re really going to say no to all of them? Even Elder Makar?"

"Yes," Ronan growled. "Especially Makar. That relic has had too much power for too long. He thinks he can order me around just because I showed him respect as an elder."

Riven felt something inside him tremble—not out of fear, this time, but from the overwhelming weight of being defended. He even gave him the power to decide.

Then he heard the gentle knock on the door.

Ronan’s voice softened slightly. "I know you’re listening," he said. "It’s up to you."

Riven stared at the door, his hands still curled around his knees. His body shook, but not from fear anymore. But from happiness! This was the evolved Ronan. The male lead who got his character development. He witnessed this happen with Eli, but now it happened with him!

He had expected Ronan to protect him, hoped for it—but hearing it, hearing him say it, with such finality, such strength, was something else entirely. Ronan didn’t care that the elders were important, that they had power, or that they could turn the entire clan council against him.

All he cared about... was what Riven wanted.

His throat tightened.

He stood up slowly, walked over to the door, and placed his palm flat against the wood, right where Ronan’s voice had come from. He didn’t open it yet. He just breathed.

"Ronan," he said softly, knowing he could be heard through the door. "Thank you."

There was a pause. Then Ronan replied, just as gently, "You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. Just say the word."

Riven smiled faintly to himself. He was still scared. But... he wasn’t alone.

"I don’t want to see them," he whispered.

"Then you won’t," Ronan said immediately. No hesitation. No demand for explanation.

"Will they leave?" Riven asked, because part of him still feared they wouldn’t. That somehow, they’d push past everything to find him again.

"I’ll make sure of it," Ronan promised. "They don’t control anything here. Not anymore."

Riven stepped back from the door, finally exhaling the breath he’d been holding. He sat on the bed, wrapping a blanket around himself. He still trembled slightly. Poor original Riven, he could imagine the horror he had to face all alone.

Outside, Ronan turned back to Troy. "Go. Tell them to leave. Say it came directly from me. If they try to argue, tell them I said this: the moment they try to force their outdated values on my people—or on Riven—is the moment I remind them this is my pack now."

Troy gave a sharp nod. "Understood."

Ronan had decided to change his tactics, and if it is too sudden for the elders to digest this, so what? He was the Alpha, he was not the old Ronan anymore.

"And Troy?"

"Yeah?"

"Make sure they don’t linger around here," Ronan added, eyes narrowing. "If even one of them tries to sneak in or push past the guards, I want them thrown out."

"Right. On it."

Ronan watched him jog off before taking one last look at the closed door. His expression softened, and he reached out, resting his palm where Riven’s had been a moment ago.

"I meant what I said," he murmured, mostly to himself now.

And inside, under the safety of that locked door, Riven heard every word. He closed his eyes and smiled faintly.

He was still afraid. But he trusted Ronan.

Riven sat quietly on the edge of the bed, his fingers curled around the blanket that pooled in his lap. His eyes flickered toward the door. Finally, Ronan stepped inside.

"Ronan," Riven said softly.

The Alpha turned immediately, attentive. "Hm?"

"I... I want to see a healer," Riven said, his tone calm but laced with something unreadable. "The one I saw last time. Eli. Can you... Call for him?"

He wanted to meet his bunny!