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A Class of Conjuring

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adventure
polyamory
friends to lovers
shifter
mate
kickass heroine
witch/wizard
werewolves
female lead
mage
sword-and-sorcery
first love
friendship
slow burn
witchcraft
supernatural
harem
school
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Blurb

They say I’m a promising witch, but my magic is a disaster…

I wish I could keep my sorcery skills from running wild. When one of my spells misfires and destroys the town’s defense against the very monsters we were sent to protect them from, the fed-up guild banishes me to the Enchanted Academy. One last chance to salvage what’s left of my career as a witch by honing my craft.

The coursework is challenging, but I can’t help but be distracted by a brainy mage and a mysterious shifter. Not to mention the bad boy who’s set his sights on me, or the fact that my relationship with my best friend is heating up.

But beyond the gated grounds, a power-hungry wizard is drawing near, intent on stealing magic. As the passion between me and my men grows, so do my powers.

Soon my friends and I will be the enemy’s prime target, and the five of us will have to unite to defeat the rising evil.

A Class of Conjuring is created by Evie Wilde, an eGlobal Creative Publishing signed author.

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Chapter 1: Cassandra
It didn't go as terribly as it first appeared, though Braeden didn't seem impressed with my abilities. He said my spells were "a good effort," but I suspected he thought he could have done better. Maybe a little less damage. He said sometimes I was more death and destruction than finesse and precision. I couldn't disagree. We stood at Wayfair City entrance and surveyed the destruction. All the buildings were still standing, though most suffered some kind of damage. Lots of broken windows, caved roofs, and of course, there was a smattering of broken streetlights. I considered it unrealistic to expect zero damage when you were trying to protect your city from destruction by monsters. Sometimes it just sort of happened. It came along with the territory regardless of your witching abilities. There was collateral damage in any battle where magic was used. Everyone knew that. "What do you think?" Braeden asked. He peered across at the city, his face stern, his eye twitching like it always did when he wanted to tell me something I wouldn't like. It didn't really matter what I thought. The destruction was plain to see. It wasn't the first time I'd left behind such a disaster in my wake, and it probably wouldn't be the last. At twenty years old, Braeden was a year older and a year wiser than me. We'd stuck by each other's sides since we were kids. We both lost our parents early on, mine while they were on assignment for the guild. He lost his father in the same way. Because the world was slowly falling apart, Braeden and I, as teenagers, shared my parents' house. Shortly after losing our parents an earthquake destroyed our hometown. Not one building was left standing. I found my home in a heap of unrecognizable rubble. Braeden and I had been virtually inseparable ever since. "The fiends are gone," I said. "We should collect what we're due." We'd been promised a large payoff to rid the city of the Sarchi, and it was time to collect. I had potion ingredients to buy and had spied a nice witch's robe at the guild I wanted to purchase. Black and striped with purple, the robe was more a fashion statement than a requirement. Braeden rubbed his chin and then put his hands on his hips where his black leather pants met the black leather vest. He wore nothing under the vest, allowing everyone a peek at his muscular arms. He had been cute as a boy and had grown into a handsome young man whom many witches desired. For some reason he put the witches off, making one excuse or another why he couldn't do the things they wanted to do with him. I couldn't say for sure, but I didn't believe he ever slept with any of the other witches. Though it could have been wishful thinking on my part. I did know he had been out with a few non-witches, but I never pried into his relationships. "I think maybe we should make this one a freebie," he said. He adjusted his black ponytail and looked at me. He seemed more worried than usual. "No one else could have banished the Sarchi the way I did," I said. "The city was invested." I crossed my arms. I knew he would eventually give in. He always did. "Cassandra, I think maybe we let this one go." His tone was more aggressive. "There's a lot of damage. Not as much as usual, but..." "No," I demanded. "They understand I'm new which means there most certainly would have been collateral damage. It comes with the territory." Braeden raised his hands in surrender. "Have it your way. But I'm telling you, Guildmaster will not be pleased. Come on." "Pie first," I said. "I worked up an appetite." "No, Trillion Village is just on the other side of those trees. We'll eat there, then collect your just reward." I started to protest but decided it might be against my best interest when I looked back at the damage. As we walked away, he motioned over his shoulder. "Your use of wind and fire separately is coming along well. The combination of the two still needs work. Your fireballs are best used when controlled by wind. You're lacking precision." "I agree," I said. We'd been together long enough for me to know he was usually right. "You'll help me work on it?" I knew the answer, but I needed to hear him say the words. "Haven't I always?" We entered the forest, walking side by side. He'd yet to mention my outfit, a new design I helped our guild create. The red lava-like swoops were surrounded by blue and white images of wind. It fit tight but also allowed easy movement when casting spells or evading creatures from the darkest depths. But Braeden had yet to say a word about my outfit. Sometimes he was too much of a friend. He avoided anything that might seem intimate between us, though deep down I thought he felt something for me. We had been together far too long for him not to. I tried keeping my distance, hoping someday he would cast aside the friendship label and become something more. "I hear they're finally rebuilding the city," he said. He was referring to our hometown. He often talked about returning and rebuilding the house we lost. He never talked about his future life, a wife or kids. I never pressed him because, to be honest, I had no clue what I wanted either. Did any of us at nineteen? "It doesn't matter. They're gone, and I'll never go back." The conversation wasn't a new one. Everything in the house had been destroyed, including family photos and other things I cherished. Everything I needed to remember my parents by was tucked away in my mind. "It's part of who we are, Cassandra. Really, it's why we're here." "When the city has been rebuilt, I'll return with you. How's that?" I didn't want to. I wanted to forget the place. I wanted to take my witchery around the world and rid the planet of all evil. Yeah, I wanted to be a superhero people could look up to. "Agreed," he said. He balled his hands together and created a sphere of light. He then held the sphere in his right hand, drawing back his left. He watched me from the corner of his eye, hoping this time I would get it. "Let the wind guide your powers, Cassandra." He brought his left hand quickly forward, sending the sphere crashing into the trees. As the trees splintered, he swirled two fingers toward the destruction and beneath the power of wind, and the trees lowered safely to the ground instead of crashing in chaos. Using a stream of light, he stacked the wood, creating a seven-foot-tall arbor for us to pass under. "Showoff," I said and elbowed him in the ribs. I stared at the manly structure. "But it needs roses. Something girly." "Cassandra, it looks fine. Let's go." "I can do this, Braeden. Give me some room." I cracked my knuckles and flopped my arms, working out the tightness. "You're gonna wear yourself out." Braeden stepped to the side. "I got this!" "Yes, I know you do," he said, unsure. "Remember, let the wind guide the fire." He moved behind me and close to a tree, oozing confidence in me. "I got this. Be prepared to be amazed." "Remember, let your thoughts guide the wind. Don't concentrate on your hands." "I know, Braeden. I know. Be quiet." I balled my hands together, moving them in circles, one under the other until a sphere of fire appeared. The energy pressed against my soul. "Concentrate, Cassandra. Repeat the spell to yourself." I pulled back my left hand and raised it behind my head. In one swoop I brought my left hand forward and shot the fireball at the arbor, using my thoughts at the last second to make roses grow from the wood. We dove to the ground as the wood exploded outward, showering us with bark and splinters. Braeden uncovered his head, his face covered in dirt, and looked at me. He never used the words I told you so, but I knew at that moment those were the words on the tip of his tongue. Instead, he did what he always did when I screwed up. "That time you had the fire and the wind right. Work on the spell, and I think you'll soon be ready for something harder." He believed in positive reinforcement rather than always pointing out my weaknesses. He pulled a splinter from my auburn hair and tossed it aside. Braeden helped me to my feet and for a moment, like always, we got caught in each other's gaze. It lasted for only seconds and then we headed down the path to Trillion Village. When we had moments like that neither of us mentioned it again, both knowing it would happen another time. I guessed a girl could always be hopeful. At six-feet-tall, dark hair with boyish looks, I was definitely attracted to Braeden. "Why can't I learn the harder things now?" I asked. "It's up to the guildmaster," Braeden said. "Okay. Once we collect our reward, I will ask him. I know I'm ready." We entered the village and immediately remembered it was Time of Festivals. Kids were running around under the stars with fire wands. Vendors sold food and crafts. Adults drank beer and spoke too loudly. A variety of food smells filled the air, including pie. "There," Braeden said, pointing at a bakery vendor. "Get your pie, and then we go home." I pulled two small gold coins from the pouch attached to my belt. "We'll split a cherry," I said. Braeden shook his head, still worried about the damage I caused in Wayfair. "Lighten up, Braeden. It was only a joke." I stopped at the vendor's tent and ordered a slice of cherry pie, handing over the two coins. We took a seat at one of the open picnic tables, Braeden taking a couple of bites before turning his attention to the electronics vendor behind me. His eyes grew wide. "Damn," he said. "Look." I turned to watch the screen. A young reporter stood in the middle of Wayfair City, destruction all around her, more destruction than I'd left behind. The shot widened and caught several Sarchi ravaging buildings, chasing citizens, and fighting with armed authorities. The camera spanned to the tops of buildings, showing crushed statues.

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