It was enough of a warning for Solomon to brace himself, somewhat, although frankly he wasn't entirely sure if that was possible after what he did feel. It was warmth and could have been soothing, except that he was a Necromancer.

It wasn't opposed to the sense he already had--quite--but it was a wellspring of potential in the presence of the same things from whose deaths he would have drawn power. It was enough that it made him feel flushed and cold in equal turns. His magic was cold and calm; what Raine was showing him was warm, blooming. It felt like ... like his body was trying to reject a virus.

Solomon yanked his hand away from Raine's, feeling a touch dizzy. "Exuberant, yes," he managed, blinking. He probably could turn that magical potential to his own ends--but he wasn't certain he wanted to try.