Help! I Became A Guy In A BL Novel!-Chapter 74: Not So Rational Anymore

Xavier’s hands curled into fists at his sides. He knew the answer.

That stupid wolf.

Because of him, he will betray his master.

Riven had no place here. He was reckless, irritating, and entirely too unbothered by his situation.

But why did he care that Riven was being reckless? He could not answer that.

Xavier let out a slow breath. He should have relayed the message to the wolf clan already. He should have ensured that the deal was truly over, that Riven was no longer expected to be handed over. But he hadn’t.

He had betrayed his master’s orders for the first time in his life.

And for what? A half-wolf he barely knew?

The thought irritated him, but deep down, he knew the truth. He was waiting.

Waiting for Soren to come to his senses.

Waiting for the moment the Alpha of the wolf clan arrived in person.

Maybe then, Soren would see reason. Maybe then, Riven could go home, back to where he belonged.

Because despite how strong Riven acted, despite the way he smiled in the face of danger, Xavier knew the truth.

Riven was going to get hurt if he stayed.

And for reasons he couldn’t yet understand, Xavier didn’t want to see that happen.

---

Ronan paced the stone floors of his chamber, his hands clenched into fists so tight his nails dug into his palms. His rage simmered beneath his skin, threatening to consume him entirely.

The council of elders had tried to reason with him, their aged voices filled with concern, but he had shut them down with a single glare. They were fools if they thought they could calm him now.

Riven was gone.

Riven had been taken from him.

And the one responsible for this treachery was none other than Raphael, his own trusted warrior, his once-loyal follower who had betrayed him in the worst possible way.

Ronan’s hands twitched at his sides, his beast clawing to break free. He had thrown Raphael into the cold, dark prison reserved only for traitors, an act that had sent ripples of shock through the entire pack.

It was an insult of the highest order, a humiliation that Raphael surely felt deep in his bones. Yet, the man had not begged for forgiveness. He had not pleaded for mercy.

Instead, he had smiled.

That arrogant, infuriating smirk had only added fuel to the wildfire of Ronan’s wrath.

The cell doors had slammed shut behind him, yet Raphael remained unbothered. He sat against the damp stone wall, his posture relaxed, his golden eyes unwavering as they met Ronan’s burning gaze.

"You’ve gone mad," Raphael had stated plainly, as if it were a fact and not an insult.

The words had echoed in Ronan’s skull ever since.

He wasn’t mad.

He was furious.

He was right.

Raphael used to think highly of the alpha, but not anymore. He was no rational man he proclaimed himself to be.

Still... Ronan was stronger than any alpha before him, stronger than any beast who had come before. His power was undeniable, his instincts sharper than any blade. And his instincts told him one thing—Riven belonged to him.

Ronen snarled under his breath, running a hand through his dishevelled long hair. His muscles ached, and his body wound so tightly with tension that he felt like he might snap.

His rut was approaching, he could feel it in the way his blood boiled, in the restless hunger that gnawed at his insides.

But none of the women who threw themselves at him, none of the perfect mates who would willingly submit to him, could satisfy the growing need inside him.

Because none of them were Riven.

His mind was filled with the memory of the half-wolf—those sharp green eyes that flickered between defiance and playfulness, the way his tail swished whenever Ronan got too close.

Ronan slammed his fist into the nearest wall, stone cracking beneath the force of his blow. The sharp pain barely registered. The beast within him roared, demanding action, demanding blood.

Raphael.

That traitor.

That pathetic excuse for a wolf had dared to defy him, had dared to take what was his. Ronan could still see the defiance in Raphael’s eyes, the lack of regret, the sheer certainty in his decision. He had accepted his fate, and that only made Ronan want to tear him apart even more.

He entertained the thought of dragging Riven back by force, of making him watch as he ended Raphael’s life in the most brutal way possible.

He wanted to see if Riven would still look at him with that same boldness if he would still speak with that same wit and arrogance when covered in his so-called saviour’s blood.

Would he hate him for it?

Would he scream his name in fury?

Ronan exhaled sharply, trying to steady himself. His breaths came out ragged, his body trembling slightly. The room felt smaller, suffocating, as if the walls were closing in around him. He rolled his shoulders, shaking off the sensation, but his mind remained clouded.

Something was wrong.

His thoughts weren’t clear. His control was slipping. It was because his rut was approaching but Riven was nowhere around him, he was losing control. He needed Riven back, now.

It had been almost four days since he left and Ronan struggled to go back to normal.

He growled lowly, his patience wearing thin. fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm

He needed to do something before he lost himself entirely.

His beast was on the verge of taking over completely.

With slow, measured steps, he made his way toward the underground prison, where Raphael sat in his cell, waiting. The guards stepped aside without question, their gazes wary as they bowed their heads. They knew better than to get in his way when he was like this.

Raphael looked up, still wearing that same infuriating smirk. His golden eyes glowed faintly in the dim light, unbroken, unafraid.

Ronan moved before he even realised it, his hand closing around Raphael’s throat. He lifted him effortlessly, slamming him against the stone wall.