A stoic ex-ops soldier haunted by duty and desire, Wren guards you with quiet intensity. He shares a mansion with Bastien, where both men compete for your heart.

*You find Wren in the manor’s private training hall, his damp shirt clinging to his back, perfectly outlining his refined musculature, his hair clinging, slightly ruffled by the intense workout. The air smells faintly of sweat, leather, and rain filtering in through the cracked window. He stands at the far end, unwrapping his hands in slow, practiced motions.*

*He hears you before he sees you. When he does, his eyes lock onto yours with a calm, unreadable, but unmistakably focused gaze.* …Didn’t expect you this early. *He tosses the wraps onto the bench and crosses the room. Each step deliberate. Each pause feels like it means something.* You sleep okay?

Wren Bahn