After Achilles had gotten up, Briseis continued to eat as she pondered over everything that was going on around her and inside of her. For the remainder of the evening he didn't say another word to her while he went in and out of the tent, until he finally retired to his bed. She tried not staring at him as he undressed himself, but found it impossible once he removed the black cloth from his upper body. In all honesty he was a beautiful man, sculpted perfectly in all the right places. She felt her girlish shyness slipping away with each passing moment, and reluctantly admitted to herself that maybe she didn't really have it in her to be a priestess after all. She realized now that she'd dived headfirst into a lifelong commitment without getting a single taste of the world around her. And now she knew the bittersweet taste, and it drew her like no other power ever had.

When she saw his fingers work at the knot at his waist, her eyes flew to his and a shock of awareness shot through her body. He wouldn't look away, didn't even react as the fabric loosened and fell to his ankles. He stood completely naked before her once again, but this time it was done purposely so he could see her reaction. The smugness in his eyes irritated her tremendously, but she was too terrified to look away, afraid what her gaze would seek out once it broke away from his. She felt the blush erupt in her chest and creep up her neck until it flooded her mind and all she could see was crimson and his searing blue eyes. He seemed to set her on fire, and the blaze swept through her, scorching every single cell she consisted of.

Achilles watched her as she watched him, satisfied with the effect he had on her. It told him that she was all woman after all, and he had to restrain himself from taking her right there and then because of it. She wasn't immovable, he knew that now, and he liked it. As she continued to stare at him, her hand frozen in midair as she clutched two grapes in it, he saw one of them burst and watched as the purple juice trickled down her arm. He moved to her slowly, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Careful," he whispered, wiping away the sticky trail of grape juice with the tip of his index finger. "You're going to stain my mat."

She looked down then, unable to bear the intensity of his eyes any longer. She muttered a low "sorry" and replaced the two grapes on the platter, loosing her appetite for food. For the first time since she'd reached womanhood, her stomach growled for something other than what could be picked from a tree or roasted over a fire. Too afraid to dwell on it or attempt to understand it, she turned to straighten out the mat she was sitting on, which was made of sheep skin. After accomplishing her task, she reclined on her side and closed her eyes, trying to shut out the turmoil inside her and the fact that he was still sitting naked beside her.

Achilles remained still for a while, tempted to brush away the hair from her face so he could look upon it again. Her chest, which was heaving a moment ago, had once again returned to its normal pace and size as she began to relax.

"You're not comfortable there," he observed, but she didn't budge. "I think you will find the bed a lot more befitting."

"And I think," she spoke up without opening her eyes, "that I would rather lay on fire than in your bed."

Furious, he reached for her, forcing her to look at him. "If I wanted, I could have you right now, priestess," he said through gritted teeth.

Her eyes flashed dangerously. "Go ahead. You will only prove what a monster I already know you are."

His grip tightened on her arm, forcing her mouth shut. They stared at one another for a long time, each matching the other's intense gaze. Their pulses quickened until they began to beat as one, thundering blood through their veins and causing their breathing to become shallow. He leaned over her, stopping short a breath away from her lips. He read the fear in her eyes, but as he lingered over her, the fear dissipated slowly as desire seeped into its place. He felt her tremble underneath him and he almost completely lost his resolve. Almost.

"I am not a monster," he whispered harshly, his eyes burning into hers.

She gasped then, shortly and soundlessly, and he lifted himself away from her. He moved around the tent, blowing out the candles until it was pitch black inside. She listened carefully as he lay in his bed, shuffling around until everything fell silent. She could hear the distant crashing of waves as they hit the sand somewhere out on the beach, waves that had brought him there, to her, so he could make her body burn.

And Zeus help her did it burn.

She lay motionless for several hours, trying to rid herself of the sensations he had created. The moonlight began to break through the leather straps at the opening of the tent, and her gaze followed it unwittingly until it landed on his body. The moonlight illuminated every muscle distinctly, torturing her once more. His face was turned to the side so that she saw only half of it. She outlined his strong jawbone with her mind, lingering on his firm lips for far too long before she finally looked away.

This wasn't how it was supposed to happen. She wasn't supposed to find him attractive. She was supposed to hate him. She had to hate him because, when he wasn't sleeping, he was out in the battlefield slaying her countrymen. Before she could process what was happening, the same instantaneous rage she'd felt at the temple filled her again, and she shot up on the mat. She now knew why she hadn't been killed back at the temple, why Apollo had allowed her to live.

Her life had been spared so she could end Achilles'.

Everything happened for a reason, and the reason why she'd survived was to kill the man who'd killed too many, not fall in love with him. She stood up soundlessly and tiptoed toward his armor. She felt around it slowly until her fingertips brushed against something sharp. His knife. She clutched it tightly and lifted it, hesitating when the moonlight reflected off it eerily.

Could she really do this?

Achilles knew that she wasn't sleeping because he wasn't either. He was still trying to banish the image of having her under him, naked, as he showed her everything she'd sworn off. He felt her stand to her feet and slowed his breathing so he could figure out what she was up to. When he hear her move across the room, he knew she'd gone to search for a weapon, and his heart sank. She still hated him. No matter how many times he made her blush and tremble, she still wanted him dead. And it devastated him, more than he was willing to admit. He felt her presence above him as she peered down reluctantly, and he almost smiled when the cool blade brushed against his skin. He waited for that inevitable moment, but it never came.

"Do it," he said, and she froze.

His voice was void of any emotion, as were his eyes when he opened them, turning his head to look at her.

"Aren't you afraid?" she asked, confused.

"Every man dies," he told her. "What does it matter whether it's today or fifty years from now?"

"If I don't kill you, many others will die," she said softly, but made no attempt to hurt him.

"Many," he replied, unable to look away from her. He waited for her to say something, or do something, but she just stared at him, dumbfounded. He lifted his hands and clutched her arms tightly.

"Do it. Kill me."

The words sent a shiver down her back. They were everything in one - a command, a plea, a dare, a warning. She couldn't move, couldn't feel or hear anything other than her thundering heartbeat. She knew that she wouldn't be able to go through with it. She knew that she wouldn't be able to kill him. As they stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity, she realized that she cared for this man deeply. She realized that after tonight, she'd never be able to wear her priestess robes again.

Without allowing her time to bolt, Achilles twisted rapidly, reversing their positions. She was now the one on her back and he was the one looming over her. She still hadn't let go of the dreaded knife, but he knew it was useless now. He'd read the emotions in her eyes, had read the desire and passion in them that made his blood boil. Her breathing was heavy, and he knew it was because of him. He noticed then that she'd exchanged the green dress she wore earlier for the white one he'd laid out for her. His hand found the hem of her dress as his heartbeat thundered in his ears. He adjusted himself above her slowly until he was cradled in between her legs.

Briseis couldn't breathe when she felt his hand on her skin. As he moved it up her leg, he left a trail of fire that spread quickly, causing her to arch her back until she was pressed flush against him. Her grip loosened on the knife, but her eyes never left his. She saw his face inch toward hers slowly, torturously, and his eyes spoke all the words he couldn't manage to say. Her mind was split into a million pieces as it tried to focus on one single sensation, one single moment that she could remember forever. His left hand on her thigh as he coaxed the thin fabric upward, his right hand under her as he held her close, his eyes that read her soul.

But her mind exploded the moment their lips met.

The first kiss was tender, soft, experimental. She almost cried at the tenderness he showed her, unable to make a connection between the man he was now and the warrior he'd always been. His lips moved over hers expertly; hers responded timidly as they tired to learn the trade.

Achilles thought he was going to burst as her inexperience teased him. The innocence in her touch stirred him immensely, and he hadn't been prepared for the feelings she awakened within him. Her lips were sweet, tender, and unskilled, but she was learning quickly. She began to kiss him back more firmly, began to bend into him more heatedly until he lost all control over himself.

His hungry tongue dived into her mouth, tasting each sweet, luscious crevice within it. He coaxed her own tongue into motion and moaned when it invaded his mouth. Somewhere in the haze of passion he heard the knife clatter onto the ground as she surrendered to him. Her arms snaked around his neck, pulling him closer as she whimpered his name. He tasted her, over and over, each new time more intoxicating than the last. He'd been with many virgin girls before, too many, but none of them had ever responded to him the way she did.

And none of them had been able to make him loose his mind the way she did.

He continued to kiss her passionately, his heart swelling each time her lips molded against his. And when he knew she was ready, he took her, tenderly, lovingly, knowing that she would be the last woman he ever touched.

Briseis gasped in that one moment, that defining moment when the thin line they'd been treading on was crossed. As he made her body his, she stumbled and fell, the knowledge of it bringing tears to her eyes. She'd never felt so utterly complete as she did at that instant when everything blended into one, when war became peace and peace became war, when night became day, and fire became water.

She continued to kiss him as the unimaginable sensations coursed through her, each time learning a new way to elicit a more provoking sound from him. She realized that she had as much power over him as he did over her, and it boosted her confidence, making their moment all the more special.

He somehow managed to completely remove the dress from her body and their skin molded into one as they continued to experience one another. Just as she'd began to master the trade of kissing, he moved his impossible lips from hers, kissing her face, her eyes, her neck, and going lower still until she could bear it no longer.

"Achilles," she moaned, tugging at his golden hair, and he halted, just for a moment.

"Let me show you," he whispered, kissing her lips again. "Let me show you, Briseis, how you deserve to be loved. Let me show you what kind of a man I am."

Her heart swelled and she closed her eyes, unable to protest. She surrendered to him again, allowing him to show her all the things he promised, and more.

A/N: Wanted to put this at the end. I had an incredible time writing this chapter. I kept it PG13 because I'm not very good at writing love scenes, and I hope I did them a portion of the justice they deserve. Dunno how much longer this is going to be, but your reviews keep me going. I'm popping up chapters every single day! It's crazy! Thank you all very very much.