Laurent POV

Four days. Four days I waited and sat and watched for any sign of life in her body. Her heart had stopped. The gentle face that had captivated me unwittingly was now complete in its pale perfection. Her black hair, already cascading in its lustrous black waves, had seemed to grow and even inkier black, catching light and throwing it like a crystal. Her skin, a somewhat unhealthy pale shade before, was an even ivory tone, pure snow. Her lips were red. Blood red. Everything about her was familiar, unfamiliar…the vampire perfection hadn't changed her too radically, yet…it was like looking at a corpse. She wasn't there. Yet I knew she was alive….as much as one of my kind could be.

Five days. She hadn't woken up, hadn't stirred. I jerked involuntarily as the scent of the wildlife around me drifted in on a breeze, catching myself and controlling my thirst. I couldn't leave her… What if she woke up? With no one to help her, she would be petrified. Or would she be angry? Maybe she wouldn't remember anything and would run away, leaving me here alone I had never minded being alone. For a year I had tagged along with Victoria and James, but I had been ready to leave them when we met the Cullens. I had enjoyed the Denali's company far more, especially Irina's. Irina…I hadn't thought about her since I had first smelled Fiona's scent in the woods. What would she think of me choosing to change her? Would she be angry that I had chosen another mate? We hadn't said anything really about the two of us, but I was not so foolish as to think that nothing had been implied. Irina was a beautiful woman, yes, and I enjoyed her company. She was caustically funny and very intelligent, if a little impulsive. But I hadn't loved her…She had wanted me to say it, had wanted me to try, but I had always kept her at an arms length. I certainly cared about her more than the others, but still, I had left clear my head. And now…Fiona wasn't my mate by any means. She would probably hate me, monster that I was…but she had kissed me back. I was sure of this. It had been a long time since I had kissed anyone, but the mechanics really hadn't changed. Was that simply the last act of a dying girl? She was such a peaceful, giving girl, she gave her life for her friend. A friend who, had she been in the woods instead of Fiona, would have met her death much sooner than if the disease had run its course. Surely she would loathe the monster that I was? The monster I had made her? No.

I looked on her beautiful face, but it was empty. Void. Again, I shook away the feeling that I was looking into the face of one dead. I pictured instead those green eyes, so full of sadness and loss. The love in her voice as she spoke of her friend and the two boys who had almost lost a sister.

She was no killer.

Had I made her one?

I told myself that I would see to it that she would never kill a human, I would never let her cause herself that regret. We would live as the Cullens and Denalis, hunting animals, living as humans, as a family would.

I tore myself mercilessly out of my fantasy.

We were no family. I was ridiculous to think of her in such a way. I had met her for less than twenty minutes. I had changed her, but she owed me nothing. I shouldn't be thinking of her in this obsessive way. But lying to myself had always been an exercise in futility. When you live alone, you learn that you must never indulge in self-delusion. I didn't want to live alone anymore.

I thought about my vow to live as the Denalis. I hadn't devoted myself to their diet before, but then, I had never had a reason to. Was that all there was to this? I would never kill again in order to win Fiona's love? It seemed hollow and fake to me. I thought about what would have happened had I not stopped when she asked me to. If I had killed her, would it be any different than a=any of my previous victims? Victim. I had never used that word before. Hunts, kills, prey, food, but never victim. Never murder. Never anything that made them…human. I knew to me, Fiona's death would have changed my universe, my existence, even if I had not known it. But any other human? The way I thought of her, that value…I couldn't ignore it now in her fellow man. Could I have killed this Sari? The friend for whom she had so willingly sacrificed her life? No. In a strange, almost idiotic revelation I thought about how Fiona was to me what every human was to someone else. I wondered who had mourned my last breakfast…my last victim. It had been a man, hadn't it? I couldn't even remember his face. I buried my head in my lap, thought there was no one to see me. Only Fiona's unopened, dead eyes.

I was unworthy of her love.

I was damned.