Help! I Became A Guy In A BL Novel!-Chapter 17: We Are Not Brothers

His doggy senses were tingling. Some perks that came with being half-wolf.

Riven didn't respond, hoping that maybe—just maybe—Julius would assume he was asleep and leave.

No such luck.

The door opened without hesitation, and Julius stepped in, filling the room with his presence like an approaching storm.

His piercing gaze locked onto Riven immediately, sharp and focused, like a wolf that had finally cornered its prey.

Riven swallowed. "You know, normal people wait for permission before barging in," he muttered, sitting up.

Julius ignored him, shutting the door behind him with a soft click.

"I need to talk to you," he said, voice deep and commanding.

Riven raised an eyebrow. "Oh, so now we talk? That's new."

Julius didn't rise to the bait. He walked forward, standing just close enough that Riven had to tilt his head to meet his eyes. His scent—deep, woodsy, and unmistakably him—was overwhelming at this distance.

"I'm not letting you go with Ronan."

Riven blinked. "Ugh." He had enough of this topic. Not this again. He was leaving with Ronan... If he stayed this step-brother was going to pounce on him. For his safety, he was going to leave.

Sure, he came here to conquer men, but he refuses to allow his first experience be with the man who insulted the original Riven, this much he could do as a thank you for letting him use his body.

Julius clenched his fists. "You heard me. You're not leaving."

A sharp laugh escaped Riven before he could stop himself. "Oh, is that an order, your highness?" he taunted, but the way Julius's expression darkened made his stomach flip.

"I'm not joking," Julius said, stepping even closer.

Riven pressed his back against the headboard, trying to create space between them. His heart was pounding—not just from fear, but from something else, something dangerous that he refused to acknowledge.

Julius exhaled sharply, clearly trying to keep himself in check. "You don't understand what you're walking into, Riven. Ronan might act reasonably, but he's an Alpha. He doesn't see you as an equal—he sees you as something to use. A half-breed like you... You don't know how nobles think."

Riven's jaw tightened. He knew Julius wasn't entirely wrong. Original Riven's whole life had been a battle just to be acknowledged as something—a noble, a wolf, a person worthy of respect. He barely had seen the outside world because his father wouldn't let this 'embarrassment' go out into the world looking like that...

Julius continued, his voice lowering into something softer, something almost coaxing. "You're better off here. I'll make sure you get the respect you deserve. I'll make sure they respect you. You'll have a good life here." His obsidian eyes burned with intensity. "But you have to refuse Ronan."

Riven scoffed. "And why the hell should I do that?"

Julius exhaled through his nose, clearly frustrated. "Because I'm telling you to."

Riven narrowed his eyes. "Yeah, see, that's the problem. You think you can tell me what to do." He crossed his arms. "Guess what, Julius, you're the reason I get treated like trash in this house. If you had just—just acted like a proper brother, maybe I wouldn't be so damn isolated. Maybe the servants wouldn't look down on me. Maybe I wouldn't feel like an outsider in my own home."

Julius's jaw tensed. His hands, which had been at his sides, clenched into fists.

And then he laughed.

Low, rough, humourless.

"Brother?" he repeated, voice dripping with disdain. "You really don't get it, do you?"

Riven frowned. "What the hell are you—"

Julius moved.

In a blur of motion, he was suddenly there, hands pressing into the mattress on either side of Riven's head, caging him in. His face was too close—far too close. Riven's breath hitched as he was forced to look into those piercing obsidian eyes.

"We are not brothers," Julius murmured, his voice deep and deliberate. "Stop calling me that."

Riven swallowed hard, his entire body stiffening. "Wh—what are you—?"

Julius leaned in just a fraction more. His lips were close enough that Riven could feel the heat of his breath against his skin.

"I don't see you as a brother," Julius continued, his voice dropping lower, becoming something almost... dangerous. "I never have."

Riven's heart was hammering against his ribs. "Julius—"

Julius's eyes darkened. "I want to hear you cry my name," he murmured. "I want to see those wolf claws of yours scratch down my back when I press you beneath me."

Riven's entire brain short-circuited.

Heat pooled in his stomach—whether from embarrassment or something else, he refused to think too hard about it. His throat felt dry.

This was not how this conversation was supposed to go.

Julius tilted his head slightly, his lips barely a breath away from Riven's ear. "We are not brothers," he whispered. "So stop saying that word."

Riven's fingers dug into the sheets. His body felt hot, his face even hotter.

He should shove Julius away. He should call him a bastard. He should—

But he didn't move.

He hated himself for the way his body responded, for the way Julius's proximity made something in him thrill despite every logical part of his brain screaming at him to get out of this situation now.

Julius pulled back slightly, just enough to meet Riven's gaze again. His pupils were dilated, his breathing slightly uneven. "You don't understand how much I hate it," he murmured. "Hearing you call me that. It puts a line between us that I don't want."

Riven licked his lips, his mind scrambling for a response. "That's... That's your problem, not mine," he finally forced out. His voice sounded breathless.

Julius smirked. Smirked.

The bastard knew exactly what he was doing.

"You sure?" he murmured. "Because you don't look like someone who wants to run away right now."

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Julius was too close. Too warm. Too intense.