Lucien's mind was filled with a shrill ringing. The world had frozen when Jean said those words. Soulmate. He was her soulmate. What on earth did that even mean? What would happen, now that they knew? It hardly seemed possible, that Lucien could be so lucky. Fate had not been kind to him, not before this moment. But somehow forces had conspired to make Lucien Jean's soulmate. She was his. Well, if such a thing were…well, he wasn't sure, actually, if it was reciprocal. If she was his soulmate as he was hers. There were 'official' signs of it for vampires, that she could not read or control his mind. He obviously had no such litmus test in response. But he…well, his attraction to her, his affection for her, his desire and this undeniable connection he felt with her…wasn't that evidence that she was his soulmate, too?
He had never been one to believe in things like that. Love at first sight, true love, soulmates, all of those things were silly fantasy. But the woman standing in front of Lucien was a bloody vampire, so who was he to say what was real and what was fairytale fiction?
"Say something," she interrupted softly.
He didn't know what to say. What could he say? Before this moment, he did not believe that such a thing as soulmates existed. He still wasn't quite convinced. Though how could he resist? The concept might be absolutely mad, but it did make sense. It...well, just as when Jean had told him that she was a vampire, he felt like his world had been turned on its ear and yet he similarly felt that everything somehow clicked into place. As though nothing made sense but everything made sense.
Jean's eyes had not left his since they had begun talking, since he had asked her what she had read from Alice's mind to startle her into dropping a whole pot of tea. Her eyes were so beautiful. All of her was, really. Every bit of her was stunningly beautiful, from her shiny chestnut hair and her blue-green-gray eyes to her lithe body and the magnificent lines and spots on her creamy skin. Lucien had been looking at her for months now. Christ, nearly a year since he'd returned to Ballarat and assisted in his father's final weeks. But all that time, Lucien had found Jean incredibly beautiful and drew such bone-deep pleasure from just looking at her. That must mean something, surely. He would not be so drawn to her otherwise. In fact, he had never been drawn to a woman like this before in all his life.
Suddenly her eyes narrowed as she furrowed her brow. "Lucien." Her voice was still quiet in the still of the night, but her tone was sharper now.
"I…" He began, not knowing how to end that sentence. He swallowed hard, trying to find the words. "I wish you could read my mind just now, since I can't seem to…"
"Try," she insisted.
Boldly—perhaps stupidly—Lucien took two steps forward to close the distance between them. "Oh Jean," he murmured, placing a hand on her cheek. Her soft cheek. His thumb stroked over the rise of her cheekbone.
Jean relaxed into his touch and smiled, causing the lovely little crinkles at the edge of her eyes. "I suppose this means you aren't horrified," she reasoned.
"Quite the opposite, my darling."
She smiled up at him, placing her hand over his where it still cupped her face. "I agree."
"I never imagined such a thing," he thought aloud. "But now that you've said it, getting over the initial shock of the concept of soulmates, I can't say it surprises me that we would be soulmates. It feels rather…"
"Rather correct," she supplied, finishing his sentence.
A slow smile spread over his face as he felt his heart grow warm in his chest. "Exactly," he agreed.
They stayed like that for a little while. Quiet. Reveling in the beauty of the moment. For Lucien, to revel in the beauty of her. To no longer have to hide how he felt, how he wanted this closeness with her now and always. There would be time later to figure out what they were going to do, how they would move forward from here. For now, Lucien just wanted to be here like this in the gentle intimacy of getting to touch her and look at her.
Despite the joy he felt, a thought interrupted that soft happiness. He looked at her and saw a woman of middle age, a woman who had lived and worked and took care of her appearance without tripping into vanity. But Lucien also remembered that he looked at Jean who did indeed take pains with her appearance because she fashioned it herself. And not just the way most women did with makeup and such. Jean was a shapeshifter. She could turn her hair green, as she'd done earlier today in the kitchen, and she could turn herself into a bat. But she could also add and remove wrinkles and gray hair. And he was struck with realizing that even now, as she stood barefoot in the grass wearing only her pajamas with all her makeup scrubbed from her face and the pins removed from her hair, causing her curls to be a bit limp and tangled in the light breeze of the night. But even without any usual artifice, Jean's appearance was still of her own creation.
"Jean?" he began, his curiosity overtaking him.
"Yes?" she answered. Oh her eyes sparkled as she looked at him, and his heart skipped a beat in his chest.
"May I ask you something?"
"Of course."
He suddenly felt a little awkward even asking, but he couldn't seem to help himself. "Without the changes you make, the shapeshifting…what do you look like?"
Her jaw dropped in surprise. And she stepped back from him, causing his hand to drop way from her face.
Lucien quickly tried to amend his question, worrying that he had offended her. "I only mean that you've said you don't age. And I was just curious what that was like, if you took away everything you've done to alter your appearance." Bloody hell, had he ruined everything with his impertinence?
"I…" Her voice failed her and she let out a strangled kind of sound. Her lovely eyes filled with tears, shining in the moonlight.
"Oh Jean, I'm terribly sorry. Please forget I asked," he said, wishing he'd never said anything at all.
She shook her head abruptly. "No, it's not…" She took a shaky breath and swallowed hard. "I've just never thought about it before. I've never had reason to. And I realized that I have no idea what I look like. I don't even know if I could take it all away to reveal my true appearance, if I even have a 'true appearance' at this point. I've been hiding for so long, Lucien. I never had an option to be free before. I never thought about it, how I've spent so much time being so alone and so hidden, even from myself. I've never had anyone know me enough to be able to ask that question, let alone someone I could ever show myself to at all."
Not thinking the better of it, Lucien immediately eliminated the distance between them and pulled her into his arms. He held her close to him, enveloping her in his embrace. "You never have to hide anymore, Jean," he vowed. "Not ever again, not if you don't want to. Not from me."
She clutched at him and pressed herself against him as close as she possibly could. Her body shook slightly, so Lucien just held her tighter. But soon, he could feel her pull back, so he loosened his grip to let her go if she wanted. Jean gazed up at him, her eyes looking a bit red, but her tears had not fallen. "You really mean that, don't you?" she asked in a small voice.
In spite of himself, Lucien smiled. He pushed her hair back from her face gently. "Of course. That's what a soulmate means, doesn't it? The one person you can be free with. Free to be yourself without worry. And I shall always be that for you, Jean. Always."
"Lucien…" she whispered.
Jean did not need to say anything else. Lucien leaned in and crashed his lips against hers and kissed her with everything he had.
