A/N: Your responses are literally blowing me away. Thank you all so much for responding so well to this story. My muse and I appreciate it greatly.

P.S. Lady Scribe of Avandell: I love Mushu (sp?)!! I actually saw Mulan just a few days ago. And that's one of my fave Mushu moments. Hehe. Glad you liked the chapter.

Her head bopped up and down slowly with each breath he took. Her cheek was pressed firmly against his damp chest, right above his heart. She could still hear it thundering underneath her ear, long after he'd kissed her for a last time before retiring to his back. His powerful arm was wrapped around her waist, holding her tightly to him as they basked in the afterglow of their lovemaking, each of their thoughts brimming just at the tip of their tongues.

She wanted to tell him that he wasn't a monster.

He wanted to beg her to never regret what they'd shared, not even for a moment.

But both of them remained quiet, content in each other's warm embrace. The seconds ticked by, and when she was positive he'd fallen asleep, she spread her palm across his skin. It was still a bit surreal to her the fact that she was no longer a virgin. She could no longer be a priestess of Apollo, but she found that she didn't regret it one bit. She was a woman now, and she'd been born so that Achilles, her country's greatest threat, could show her that. She'd tasted all the pleasures right from his lips, and couldn't imagine her life without knowing them. She couldn't imagine growing old without ever knowing the impossible passion he'd aroused within her, the passion that burned right through her, setting everything she touched on fire.

She wondered then if she set him, too, on fire.

As if it had a mind of its own, her delicate hand brushed across his skin, causing his eyes to shoot open. She continued to torture him, unwittingly, sweeping her fingertips ever so lightly down his side, across his hip until his large hand clamped over hers, forcing it to stop its roaming before he exploded. She froze, both embarrassed and shocked that he was still awake.

"It's not smart to play with fire," he whispered in a husky voice, and she shivered. His thick fingers laced through hers as she tentatively lifted her head to look at him. His bright eyes startled her for a moment, causing her breath to catch in her throat.

"I'm sorry," she whispered back, not knowing what else to say, and he smiled.

"Don't be," he told her, amused. "I'm not." He looked at her for a while before lifting his head, capturing her lips with his. She responded immediately, moving her body over his more fully. As his free hand scanned her bare back, she moaned, arching into him.

"Achilles," she pleaded, and he froze.

"Say it again," he demanded.

"What?" She asked, looking at him, and his eyes filled with desire.

"My name. In that voice."

"W-why?"

"Because," he answered, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, "I like it."

"Why?" she asked again, and his chest rumbled with laughter.

"Because," he repeated, "I can hear how much you want me."

Her eyes widened, his explanation shocking her. The same maddening blush spread across her cheeks again, and his eyes darkened.

"Don't be embarrassed," he told her when she looked away. "There is nothing wrong with what you're feeling."

Briseis became irritated, partly because he was right and partly because he was telling her how she should feel. The moment between them dissipated, at least for her, and she untangled herself from him. "You have no idea what I'm feeling," she muttered as she moved away from him, turning to her side.

Achilles lay still for a moment, trying to process what the hell just happened. First she was touching him, ready to give herself to him again, and then she pulled away like nothing had ever happened between them. He'd never been on the receiving side of such a brush-off, and it stung quite painfully. But his reason overrode his hurt pride and he remembered that he'd been her first, ever, an enemy soldier who held her captive. She wasn't like other women, he knew, because he'd taken plenty of captive women in previous wars. She remained tall, unbendable, even after she'd surrendered her body to him.

But, had she really been the one who'd surrendered, or had it been him?

The sudden thought gnawed at him, and he turned his head to look at her illuminated back. What if he was really her captive, in some weird, twisted way, unable to break free of the hold she had over him? Ever since the first moment he'd looked into her eyes he'd been nothing short of drawn, maybe even bewitched by her. He never would have waited so long for any other woman, but he'd waited for her until he was absolutely sure that she was ready and that she wouldn't regret a single moment between them. So in a way he had really surrendered to her, he'd surrendered his will and his pride, and for the first time in his life he wasn't infuriated by the fact.

He liked it.

It made him more human, more mortal, more real. And if he wanted anything in his life it was to be real. She'd given that to him, had made everything between them real, had made everything in his life real, and he found that he was eternally indebted to her for it. He turned to his side, snaking closer to her until their bodies were almost glued together. He leaned his head over hers and it fit in the cavity of her shoulder perfectly.

"Tell me, then," he finally said, "tell me how you feel."

Briseis closed her eyes, his scent enveloping her senses once again, making it impossible for her to think. How did she feel? She had no clue, and how could she? Everything had suddenly become a blur: her destiny, his intentions, her dedications, his motivations, her loyalties, his reasons. The war didn't even exist anymore, not when he was this close to her, not when she'd made love to the man who'd probably help burn Troy to the ground. She wanted to feel guilty, she needed to feel guilty, but she couldn't.

Not after the way he looked at her and the way he touched her.

But then there was a part of her that fretted over the way he felt about her. She tried to banish the thoughts, but in the end she painstakingly pondered on the possibility that she was just another body to him, another conquest he could stack high on his wall of pride. And that hurt the most, the very prospect that she'd allowed such a man to cause her to break a promise she'd made to the gods and take away any chance she had to redeem herself before them.

But then his voice trembled and her reason faltered, and everything became a blur again.

"Briseis," he whispered harshly, this time wrapping his arm around her waist. "Tell me."

She turned her head until their eyes met, and his gut clenched when he saw the tears brimming in hers. Regret. Regret, regret, regret. It echoed hollow in his head, shooting pain throughout his body. He couldn't stand looking into her eyes any longer because it hurt him, worse than any sword ever could. And the hurt didn't come from his pride, but his heart, making the pain all too real and searing.

"What am I to you?" she whispered finally, searching his eyes.

And then he understood. His mind reeled at her question, his heart picked up its pace, and his body relaxed.

"You, Briseis," he answered, emphasizing every single syllable, "are the only woman who has made me second-guess myself."

He heard her swallow and waited patiently for a response. Her lips parted as if to say something, but she hesitated, looking away from him. When the silence stretched between them, he became impatient.

"Say something," he insisted, and their eyes met again.

"Are you lying?" She asked, her voice unsure.

"I don't lie."

His voice was firm, his words final, and she believed him.

"Then what I feel is important to you?"

"Yes," he replied, pulling her closer. "It is very important to me."

"Why?" They both asked in unison, and he laughed. He reached over with his free hand and placed it over her cheek. She leaned into his touch without even thinking about it and closed her eyes.

"Because," he whispered for the third time that evening, "you're irresistible."

A ghost of a smile spread across her lips. "I'm just a priestess," she murmured.

"Not anymore," Achilles sighed, closing the space between them as he moved his head to kiss her. After he drank in as much of her as he could bear, he pulled away. "Tell me. Do you regret it?"

Briseis considered his question, unsure of how to answer it. "I...don't," she said finally, and felt him tremble. "How could I? You showed me a world that I've never known before, a world I didn't think I wanted to know before you came along. You made me a woman," she whispered, running her hand along his arm.

"You were already a woman, long before I came along Briseis. You were a strong, unbendable woman. You still are," he told her. "You were just...untouched. And, for a long time, untouchable."

She read the smile in his eyes and it warmed her heart. "And I thought you were just a savage soldier."

His face darkened. "I believe that the term you used was monster."

"I was scared," she explained, but he shook his head.

"No you weren't. You're fearless."

"I was angry, then," she told him. "I was very, very angry."

"Are you still angry?"

She averted her eyes from his. "No."

"What are you?" He pressed.

"I'm just...content."

Achilles inhaled deeply. "So am I," he said. "You gave me something I've never experienced before."

"You expect me to believe that?" She teased, half serious.

"You made it real," he said fiercely. "I've never had that with a woman."

"So what happens now?" She asked, his words melting her.

"What do you want to happen?" His eyes burned into hers as he searched for an answer within her brown orbs.

She blushed, looking away from him. "I don't know," she murmured. She waited for a response from him, but received none. He closed his eyes and placed a kiss on her cheek.

"Now we sleep," he whispered into her hair, drawing a cover over their bodies. Her breathing eventually evened out as consciousness seeped out of her, but his eyes remained open. He had no idea what the morning would bring, or how he'd feel once the sun lit everything brightly, but right now he was terrified.

Right now something inside his head told him that he finally understood that one pesky little word.

Love.

He understood love.

And it made him want to crawl into a dark corner and hide.