Chapter 64 ~ Usefulness

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"Don't touch me," Dylan said. A range of emotions flashed through her brown eyes—distrust, anxiety, guilt and regret. "You went too far, Laikin."

"You don't have to love me half as much as I do you," he replied. A shudder ran through her as his grip on her arms tightened just a bit. "You don't have to love me at all. Just stay by my side."

"Release me." Nearly blind with anger, she struggled further, which only made him tighten his grip more. "I don't belong to you, nor shall I ever be your wife."

Eventually, he loosened his grip enough for her to pull free. She staggered backward, nearly tripping over her skirts. As she teetered on her heels, he quickly thrust out his hands and grabbed her by the waist to prevent her from falling backwards.

"You're not sane any more," she said. "Didn't I tell you to keep your hands to yourself?"

"I become a crazed man when it comes to you," Laikin muttered under his breath. His gaze flickered to her mouth. "You're mine, your lips belong to me."

"I think you're truly delusional, I have no doubt about it."

"If I cannot have your heart," he whispered, "give me your soul, your strength, and your mind." His hands grasped her waist, pulling her closer. "Give yourself to me."

"What on earth makes you think I would do such a thing?" she asked. Dylan longed to hit him, to pound some sense into him. "You know only the wrong things, Laikin."

'And it breaks my heart.'

Laikin furrowed his brow looking at her, lost deep in thought. He knew how to do a lot of things. But no one had ever questioned him.

He knew how to measure people up, down to the millimeter, so he knew how to rip them apart. He knew how to pick his targets, learning their weaknesses and mercilessly exploiting them. He knew how to use someone's body and soul. But he did not know love.

"You only know how to use people," she said. "What a pity it all is. You and I were only taught how to hate and survive."

Dylan gazed up at him. For a moment, his blue eyes held a gentle light she'd never seen there before. He was watching her like she was his last lifeline.

Here was a man who was bred and raised in a cold environment. He had been a lonely child, doing everything possible to get the attention and love of his parents, but never could.

After a miscarriage, the Marchioness of Frederique discovered she was infertile and unable to have a child. Desperate for an heir, she raised and adopted her own nephew.

But she was unable to overcome the grief that came from losing her own child. And she could not bring herself to love Laikin like her own.

Laikin was only praised and acknowledged when he did something well. When he was useful as an heir. So, he began to view people as nothing more than tools to be used and then discarded once they've served their purpose.

'Neither one of us know how to love.'

"I can't say that I love you," she said, burying her face against his chest. He smelt like a mixture of mint and apples. "From what I see, you're hurt, Laikin. And I can't be the one who heals you."

"Why?" he muttered. His eyes glazed and his hands fell limp at his side. "We could teach each other how to love."

"You have to know what you are going to teach."

She grabbed onto him, keeping her eyes closed and her face pressed into his chest. He didn't hug her back, but her hug felt warm and genuine to him.

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