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Tristan winced at the sharp sting as Carl’s claw cut into his palm. He quickly held his hand over the bowl and four drops of bright red blood fell in before the cut magically sealed itself.
“Chant and keep chanting until I tell you to stop,” Nev murmured into Tristan’s ear. Tristan nodded and began the chant.
The rush of power that rushed through him almost made him falter but he managed to stay on track and not miss a word.
He watched as the blood on the bowl glowed and then started shifting from colour to colour. The process had him mesmerised and it took him a moment to realise someone was calling him.
“Tristan you can stop now.” Nev’s voice sounded like it came from the end of a tunnel and Tristan shook his head in an attempt to come out of the spell trance he’d fallen into.
When he finally met Carl and Nev’s eyes he saw awe reflected in both. He looked down at the blood in the bowl, but it was back to the normal red of all blood.
“So?” He looked back at Nev. “What is the result?
Nev grinned. “I counted twenty-one colour changes, so that means you are a level twenty-one mage. Congratulations you are currently the strongest mage known to the high council.”
Tristan knew he was staring and that his mouth was hanging open, but he didn’t care. Twenty-one? How on earth could he be a level twenty-one mage? His parents and other closest family members were only level five. Power ran in families, so where did his come from? There were so many questions running through his head he didn’t know where to start.
The feel of familiar arms surrounding hi and pulling him into a warm embrace brought him back to the present.
“My mate, I am so happy for you.”
Tristan twisted and took a long slow kiss. When he pulled back he flushed and looked around, only to see Nev had left the room.
Carl chuckled. “He said he’d see us later. He went to go freshen up.”
Tristan flushed but glared at Carl. “If you were not only able to notice him leaving, but also remember what he said when he left. You were obviously not giving our kiss the attention it required.” He folded his arms over his chest. “You should make it up to me.”
Carl grinned and before Tristan realised what was happening he was upside down over Carl’s shoulder. He bounced and squeaked as he was carried from the room at vampire speed and back to their suite.
One last bounce had him landing on the bed and watching as Carl locked the bedroom door and prowled towards him.
“So, I need to make it up to you for not paying enough attention, do I?” Carl pulled Tristan nearer to the end of the bed by his ankle. “And just how am I supposed to make it up to you? Hmm?”
Tristan pulled Carl down and after a few murmured words in his mate’s ear, he got exactly what he asked for.
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