They kissed. At first, soft and exploratory, but as the moment stretched, Selene's lips parted slightly, letting out a low, breathy moan that sent a ripple of heat straight through Tom's body. The sound was intoxicating, a silent invitation.
He responded instinctively, his hand reaching up to cup her chin gently, tilting her face towards him. Their mouths met again, this time deeper and more urgent, the kiss thick with growing desire and unspoken promises.
Tom's fingers tangled in the soft waves of her hair, drawing her closer as the kiss deepened. Her moan grew louder, vibrating into his mouth like a whispered secret, telling him without words that she was ready, ready for something more.
Encouraged, Tom let his hands slide down from her neck, trailing slowly over the curve of her shoulder and along the smooth line of her collarbone.
But just as his fingertips brushed the sensitive skin below, Selene suddenly broke away. The movement was deliberate, teasing, and as she pulled back, a sly smile curved her lips. Her eyes glinted with mischief as she lifted her glass of wine and took a slow sip.
"Is it always this easy for you?" she asked with a teasing lilt in her voice, her eyes sparkling with amusement.
Tom blinked, momentarily thrown off by the question. He searched his mind quickly, then offered a slow, almost shy smile. "I wouldn't know," he said carefully, "I've never done this before."
Selene chuckled softly, the sound dry and sarcastic. "Sure, I believe you." She leaned back slightly on the couch, swirling the wine in her glass. "You should know, I'm not like other girls. With me, you're going to have to earn it."
Tom studied her for a moment, the challenge clear in her words. There was something compelling about her confidence, the way she held herself, the unspoken rules she set with a single sentence. He nodded slowly, a spark of intrigue igniting within him. He knew then that he wasn't getting in her pants today.
***
That evening, back in his house, Tom sat brooding alone in the dim light of his room. The emotions swirling inside him were confusing, part anger, part frustration, and a strange undercurrent of excitement. He wasn't sure whether to be mad at himself for falling into Selene's teasing trap or grateful for the unexpected connection she had sparked.
The mood made him distracted, absentminded as he moved around the room, barely registering the details of his surroundings. Gregor, who had been sitting quietly in the corner reading, finally noticed Tom's restless pacing.
"I know you sneaked off to meet the girl," Gregor said quietly, not bothering with any pretense of subtlety.
Tom stopped and turned, his expression darkening. "Since when did you become my bodyguard or chaperone?" he snapped, moodiness coloring his tone.
Gregor sighed, unfazed by the sharpness. He folded the book shut and stood up. "We have a mission we need to focus," he said simply. Then, he added, "The flight has been booked. We leave tomorrow."
Tom nodded, the weight of the coming journey settling over him. The tension between them remained unspoken but palpable.
The next morning, after a terse breakfast, Tom and Gregor sat down to go over the plan again. It was straightforward on paper, but the details carried the weight of uncertainty.
"When we get to the journalist's house," Tom explained, "we'll ambush him. Find out everything we can about the Emerald of Firan."
Gregor nodded, his eyes sharp and calculating. "And if he doesn't cooperate?"
Tom's lips pressed into a thin line. "Then we'll need a plan B."
Gregor's brow furrowed slightly, sensing where Tom was heading. "I don't think we'll need that. We can try to be persuasive. Get him talking."
Tom shook his head slowly, the worry clear in his eyes. "Persuasion isn't enough. We can't afford to leave it to chance. I want to be prepared."
With a slow deliberate motion, Tom pulled out a small spherical device from his bag. It was about the size of a baseball, smooth and metallic, with faintly glowing blue lines tracing patterns across its surface.
Gregor's eyes narrowed. "What is that?"
Tom placed the device carefully on the table. "A portable neural trap. It's designed to force someone into a mental loop—a kind of torture that's relatively painless but extremely effective."
Gregor raised an eyebrow. "Painful but painless?"
Tom gave a grim smile. "The device traps the victim inside their own mind, making them relive their most painful memories over and over. For the person inside, it feels like a full day of suffering, but in reality, it only lasts three minutes."