Betrayal of the Heart

Chapter 20 Tasty

Arne paced around the cabin, anxious. His body still shook and sweat as he fought the urges. It had been a while since he last partook in the drug but it still ran rampant in his mind. Laying down he tried to get some sleep but it was a struggle before it finally took him.

"You are a disappointment" his father said, Arne sat on his knees in front of him.
"I'm sorry" Arne cried, hands on the ground with his head bowed.
"This is not the man I raised" his father said shaking his head, "you were raised better then this".
"I know"
The world shifts around Arne as he is transformed into his child self.
"Mommy!" Arne cried up running to his mother and clinging onto his leg.
"Oh my love" she said picking him up in her arms and hugging him. Arne cuddled into her shoulder and smiled, it had been so long.
"Theres my boy" his father said grabbing him out of her arms and hugging him closely.
"I missed you" his father said, kissing his cheek and ruffling his hair. Arne giggled and wrapped his arms around his father neck. He remembers this memory, Arne was five and his father had just helped defend their town from an invasion. The front door was kicked open as an arrow flew through the house hitting his mother in the heart.
"Nooo!" Both Arne and his father yelled, Arne was dropped to the ground as his father went into a rage. Sword out he murdered them in front if Arne before running to his wife.
"No..." his father cried.
"Do not cry my love" Arne's mother said reaching out and stroking his fathers face.
"Please protect Arne and make sure nothing happens to him" those were his mother's last words.

Arne's father sat at his mother's grave drinking a bottle of whiskey as empty bottles surrounded him. Dirt covered him as he had been drinking there for days un moving.
"Papa?" Arne said grabbing onto his father's arm.
"Get off!" His father grunted pushing Arne away from him and to the ground. Arne, only five years old, looked up at his father through tear filled eyes. That was the start of when his father started getting mean. That was the turning part.

Arne woke up in a cold sweat, shaking. 'It's just a nightmare' he said shaking his head.
"What am I doing?" He asks shaking his head, "I need to get my head on straight". Shooting out of bed he grabbed his sword and walked outside. He spent some time making dummies out of branches and hay. There was only one thing in the past that made him feel like he was doing something right. Training. Sleep eat train repeat. After a while he could feel his strength come back as his skin looked healthy and his muscles started developing again.

"Thirsty..." Amelia whispered as she pushed herself off the ground. It had been days since she last drank and she was starting to feel the effects. Getting up she looked around and saw Arne training, he looked a lot better then he did before. 'Hmm' she thought walking io behind him silently. Arne stopped to catch his breathe and wipe the sweat from his face when he felt two fangs break through his skin. Gasping he wanted to turn around and stop whatever was attacking him but his body was immobilized. In the matter of a second the pain turned to the of pure pleasure. His body stiffened as his cock twitched in his pants, 'what the fuck' Arne thought. A moan escaped his lips as he shut his eyes and was overwhelmed with the sensations. Amelia's eyes widened as soon as his blood hit her tongue. The taste of it was intoxicating and her whole body warmed as the liquid slid down her throat. Wrapping her arms around him, she pulled him in close as she closed her eyes. Her eyes shot open as she pushed Arne away from her, her heart pounded in her chest. Wiping the blood from her lips she shook her head and walked away from him. Arne lay on the ground in pure bliss, un able to move for a minute. Eventually he pushed himself up and looked around.
"What was that" he said as he looked for any sign of what just happened but Amelia was long gone. He rubbed his neck and his fingers found the two puncture wounds. Looking over at the small cabin she had built for herself just outside of Isaac's grave he knew that this was because of her. Grabbing his sword he tried to keep practising but was distracted by the feeling of getting bit. It reminded him so much of the powder, that intense feeling of euphoria.   A smirk played on his lips, 'maybe getting over this addiction is going to be so difficult'

Amelia closed the door behind her and leaned her back against it.
'Why does his blood taste so good?' She thought as she walked into her room. Her head still spun from the taste of it. She wondered if his lineage had anything to do with it. 'Maybe Hero's have special blood' she wondered, trying to find any excuse to discount the feelings that ran through her when she tasted his blood.
"He's just a blood bag" she had to keep repeating to herself until her mind settled and she could think straight again.