Bella was still breathing. Her chest barely moved, only lightly and shallowly, and she still looked like she was in so much pain. But by some miracle, she wasn't dead.
Jacob shot to his feet, still holding Bella's hand. He leaned over her, amazed. Had she somehow not been as bad off as they'd thought? He reached down and put his hand to the bandage over her neck, praying.
The gauze was red, soaked through with blood, but dried now. There didn't seem to be any fresh blood anywhere. Jake checked the table to make sure the first aid kit was still there, in case he needed to reapply the bandage. Then he slowly pulled away the gauze.
A part of him had known it wouldn't be possible, but the chance that Bella might not die had filled Jacob with so much joy that he had ignored his logical side. It took him a long moment to finally register the truth of what he was seeing.
Blood still coated Bella's throat, but it was dried and brown and much of it pulled away with the gauze. The wound on her neck was completely healed. Jacob stared for a long moment at the smooth, perfect skin of her neck. He leaned down to get a better look, and that was when the scent hit his nose.
"No…" he whispered, jerking back and covering his nose with his free hand. "No. No!" He bit back his revulsion and reached down to put his hand against the perfect, icy, marble skin.
Vampire skin.
He fought with himself between despair and relief. The venom was healing her, it was changing her, it was destroying her. The wound was gone, the jagged edges of death gone, her fragile mortality gone… Bella wouldn't die… ever.
Then Bella is already dead, he told himself harshly.
A part of his mind puttered away logically, ignoring his emotions. He should snap her neck and save her soul, he reasoned. But if the vampire venom had healed the deadly wound at her throat, would it be stopped by something so simple as a broken neck? Would he have to wait until she was changed, and then destroy her like they'd destroyed the vampire in the clearing?
With a massive effort, Jacob shut down that part of his mind. He couldn't kill her. He couldn't kill Bella, even if she… He had brought her back to La Push, carried her bleeding body back through the forests, and sat with her while he thought she was dying. After everything, how could he be the one to kill Bella?
He kept his hand pressed there to her icy skin, his fingers curling around the back of her neck gently. The skin at his fingertips, lost under hair, was warmer, still soft. He stroked his thumb over the still-human skin under her chin. The limp hand he still clung to was as human as always.
Feeling the warmth of the blood that still flowed through the body of the girl he loved, he decided. He would stay with her while she died. It was a different death than he'd thought, but she was still Bella for now, and she was still dying. He would no more leave her here alone than he would hasten her end.
And when she was dead… Well…