He tightened his grip around his scythe even though having it in his hands wasn’t reassuring at all. He had read about this in some other necromancers’ Books of Shadows before. He had even discussed the various trials with some other necromancers in the past. At least the ones he was friendly with. A necromancer’s weapon of choice, the cane in Calian’s case, would transform into a scythe during the final test.
“Your mates’ energies are delicious,” a female demon hissed the words out as if she was some kind of a serpent before sliding her forked tongue in and out of her mouth while staring at Calian.
Calian glared at the demon. “They’re not my mates.”