Help! I Became A Guy In A BL Novel!

Riven made sure to keep his distance from this suspicious man. Maybe he shouldn't have gotten on the carriage, but he was too exhausted from the travel to think straight... Besides, he had three wolves protecting him.

He didn't look at Nicholas again.

And if Nicholas watched him in silence for the rest of the ride, Riven pretended not to notice.

His entire body was hot. Not the good kind of hot, either—more like I'm-about-to-drop-dead hot. His head was foggy, his chest was tight, and his skin prickled under his clothes. If he didn't know better, he'd swear he was about to come down with the flu.

It had to be Nicholas's fault somehow. He didn't know how, but he was blaming that man for this.

When the carriage rolled under the tall arch of the courtyard gate, Riven let out a breath, he was so relieved.

He shifted in his seat and tried to will his face to look normal, because there was no way he was going to let Soren see him looking half-dead and pathetic.

Except he absolutely did look half-dead and pathetic.

Soren was already there waiting, arms folded and expression just a little too amused. Not in a good way, but in a possessive way. As in, why was Riven on a different carriage... Sitting next to some other man.

He looked right at the emblem on the door—Snow Leopard crest—and his gaze turned sharp enough to cut glass.

Riven watched that transformation and immediately thought, Oh no.

The second the carriage stopped, Riven tried to get out as gracefully as possible. Unfortunately, the moment he put weight on his feet, his knees wobbled. He staggered forward and had to grab the edge of the door to steady himself.

Well. So much for dignity.

He shot Soren what he hoped was a breezy, everything-is-fine smile. "Hi," he said, voice raspier than he intended.

Soren's eyes flicked from Riven's flushed face to the carriage door behind him. He didn't smile back, but there was something dangerous and slightly entertained in the way his mouth curved. "Hello, little wolf."

Riven's stomach did a weird flip. Not now, he thought desperately. I'm too tired to be flustered.

Before he could say anything else, the carriage door creaked again—and Nicholas stepped out.

Nicholas simply bowed to pay his respects.

Soren's eyes narrowed. His smile was pure predator now. "Nicholas," he said softly, voice as smooth as silk and twice as lethal.

Nicholas met his gaze with all the enthusiasm of a man who'd rather be literally anywhere else. He dipped his head, polite but not quite respectful. "Master Soren."

Riven tensed, ready for an explosion, but Soren just let out a quiet, humourless laugh. "You should be on your way." Soren basically ordered him to leave.

Riven quickly decided he would rather melt into the cobblestones than be standing there for this conversation.

He cleared his throat. "It wasn't—I mean, he just—my carriage broke down—"

Soren's gaze flicked back to him. Riven had the humiliating realisation that he was swaying on his feet. Soren's eyes softened just a fraction, and before Riven could protest, strong arms scooped him right off the ground. He could tell something was up with his little wolf.

Riven let out a startled yelp as Soren lifted him effortlessly. But it was welcome since he seriously did not feel like himself.

"You look feverish," Soren said calmly, ignoring Nicholas entirely now. "You're burning up."

"I'm fine," Riven protested weakly. "It's just… Fatigue."

Riven peeked over Soren's shoulder. Nicholas was still standing by the carriage, watching them with that same unblinking stare. Riven had to suppress a shudder.

"Thanks for the lift," Riven called out in the flattest voice he could manage.

Nicholas inclined his head slightly, as though he were making note of the exact moment Riven's soul left his body. Then he climbed back into the carriage without another word.

Riven sighed and rested his forehead against Soren's collarbone. "I really, really hate that man," he mumbled.

"Mm," Soren agreed, though his tone suggested he was already plotting Nicholas's slow demise.

Soren carried him through the front hall like he weighed nothing, past a couple of wide-eyed servants who immediately scurried out of the way

Riven started to wave at them with a smile, delirium clearly setting in.

"Don't drop me," Riven murmured, even though he knew Soren never would.

"You think so little of me," Soren drawled.

"You're very tall. It's a long way down... My butt already hurts enough." Riven muttered without another thought, making Soren freeze in his tracks.

Once they were in Soren's massive bedroom, he set Riven gently on the edge of the bed and knelt in front of him. Soren's palm pressed to Riven's cheek, thumb brushing just under his eye.

"You're really warm," Soren murmured, concern softening the usual sharpness in his face.

Riven tried to grin. "Maybe I'm just hot," he uttered with a deadpan expression.

Soren looked unimpressed. "Do you feel ill?"

"I feel... Ahhh...." Riven thought he answered, but he actually did not.

That was barely an answer.

Soren leaned over him, a wry little smile playing at his mouth. "Get some rest."

Riven peeked up at him, eyes half-lidded. "You gonna stay here with me?"

Soren's expression softened, and he pressed a kiss to Riven's forehead. "Of course."

Riven finally let himself relax. His heart stopped hammering. Whatever weirdness Nicholas had brought with him, it was no match for this—the warm, safe presence of Soren, who smelled like snow and cedar and everything good.

"…If I die," Riven mumbled, his cheeks turning red, "bury me somewhere nice."

"You're not dying," Soren quickly added. He could not even imagine that. Why was Riven having so many health scares? Would it be better if he did not travel at all. Should he stay in one place? He needed to call a doctor... He hated this.

"Mm. We'll see." Riven kept tossing. Exhausted, yes, but this was not just physical exhaustion from last night's shenanigans. He felt mentally exhausted, like something was...