Help! I Became A Guy In A BL Novel!

Riven did not know when he fell asleep, but only knew that he was woken up. His back ached from being curled up on the plush seat, and his neck was stiff, thanks to the terrible angle he'd dozed off in. He hadn't even realised he'd fallen asleep until the sudden, violent jolt nearly knocked him clean onto the floorboards.

"Ah—what the hell…" he muttered, pressing a palm to his forehead.

He leaned to look out the window and called, voice raspy with drowsiness, "What happened?"

The driver's voice floated back, sounding as bewildered as Riven felt. "My Lord, I'm not entirely sure… We must have struck something hard. The wheel's cracked."

Riven groaned, then swung the door open and climbed out into the cold mountain air. He stretched his arms over his head, feeling his joints pop. He looked like he was in a war... Which... Technically, he was, but not actually fighting it.

As he did, his gaze travelled over the road—a narrow path hugging the shoulder of the steep cliffs, with jagged rock and patches of barely alive vegetation.

Riven crouched near the broken wheel, squinting at the splintered wood as if he actually knew what he was doing. He didn't. But it made him feel slightly less helpless to pretend. He poked the cracked spoke, then rose and dusted off his trousers.

Two of the wolf guards were clustered around the driver, murmuring ideas back and forth. They were big men, taller and broader than Riven by a head. He knew they could shift and carry him if it came down to it—but they would rather not touch the Alpha's mate or the madman Soren's love.

He sighed, stepping back to take a better look at the road ahead. They'd been travelling two hours already, and by his estimate, they need another two hours to reach. If they didn't get moving soon, it would become quite late.

Riven rubbed his temples. He considered shifting to his wolf form and simply jogging the rest of the way, but the thought alone made his muscles throb. He was still worn out, no thanks to Ronan's extremely thorough attention the night before.

Absolutely no stamina left, he thought, scowling at nothing in particular.

As the guards discussed, he decided to walk off his frustration. He didn't go far—just far enough that their voices faded into the hush of the mountain. A wind stirred, cool and clean, and he breathed it in, trying to centre himself.

Then he heard it.

The clatter of hooves on stone, faint but unmistakable, echoed around the bend in the road.

Riven frowned, turning to peer up the narrow pass. Whoever was approaching was still hidden by the rock face that curled around the mountain, but the sound was getting steadily louder.

He shifted his stance, ears twitching. The rhythmic drum of hooves was joined by the gentle creak of carriage wheels. Someone was coming, they were saved!

Riven's gaze sharpened as the front edge of the carriage finally came into view, followed by the rest of it. The sleek black lacquered panels gleamed against the sunlight, and the large silver emblem on the door was impossible to miss.

A snow leopard, stylised and elegant, surrounded by curling vines.

Riven raised both brows.

Well, that's convenient, he thought, folding his arms over his chest. They would help him... Right? Unlike in the wolf clan, he did not hear anyone resisting Soren because he decided to take in a male lover-

The Snow Leopard clan's crest was easy to recognise, even if he hadn't spent time among them. He'd seen it plenty in official correspondence and on gifts sent to Ronan's estate. It looked like the delegation must be returning home—or perhaps it was an official carriage sent to meet someone. Whoever it was, Riven knew that he could ask them for help.

The carriage rolled to a smooth stop right in front of Riven. The driver quickly climbed down and opened the door, but the person who stepped out was not the driver at all.

He was an older man, tall and straight-backed despite his obvious age. His hair was white as frost and pulled into a neat, low tail.

Riven blinked up at him, a little surprised. The man was dressed in deep blue travelling robes embroidered with silver thread, the pattern forming a repeating motif of snow leopards prowling through stylised mountains. His pale eyes assessed Riven from head to toe without much expression. If Riven had to guess, he looked vaguely annoyed.

The old man gave a curt nod. "Lord Riven," he said in a smooth but stern voice, "do you require assistance?"

Riven glanced over his shoulder. His guards were still standing around the broken wheel, debating solutions. One of them was poking it with a stick as though hoping it would magically fix itself. The other two had their heads bent together, arguing in low voices.

Hopeless.

Riven sighed. He rubbed his temple, trying to will away the fatigue and the tension in his shoulders.

"Yes," he admitted, "I'd appreciate a ride. If you have the space."

The old man inclined his head, though he did not look particularly thrilled after sensing the possibility of Riven's entourage following them. "Naturally," he replied, voice polite but flat. "We will make arrangements."

Riven gestured to the nearest of the guards over. "You, Darius. You and two others will come with me to Soren's estate. The rest of you—stay here and help the driver repair the wheel. When it's fixed, follow along with my luggage. And send word back to Ronan's estate so he knows where I've gone."

The guard bowed low. "Understood, my Lord."

This time, Riven had more luggage since he was planning to leave things at Soren's place. That was now his home too, not just the wolf clan.

The old man's gaze flicked to the three wolves who would be accompanying them, his pale brows drawing together in a faint line. Riven could tell he didn't love the idea of a pack of wolves riding along in the Snow Leopard carriage. Well, too bad.

Riven was known to abuse his authority, unlike his past self in the modern world who was a simple office worker.