Post Apocalyptic Mage Novels & Stories

The entire Nightfall pack knows that Alpha Jack Thorne is famous for his devotion toward me, his mate. Not only does he personally take care of me, but he also drills a hot spring for me, knowing how much I'm afraid of the cold. He even rests in his wolf form at my feet in front of the Elder Council. "All the decisions that I made will place my mate, Ivy Blackwood's wishes as top priority." His gentle and serious vows fill the next three years of me being Jack's mate. I'm very sure that he loves me with all his heart. That is, until I come across a social media post, where my private hot spring serves as the background. Jack, who claims that he's off to mark his territory, can be seen kissing the she-wolf in the hot spring while the upper half of his body is naked.

I accidentally clicked on a viral post. [What’s one regret that you can’t get over in your life?] Everyone in the comments said things like not studying well or not purchasing a house when it was cheaper. I felt a little bored by it. I was about to scroll past when I accidentally came across a comment with the highest number of likes. The account had a profile picture that was very familiar to mine. [Five years ago, to elope with my first love, I faked my death to leave my husband. [And I used my husband’s research to help my first love kickstart his business. [Now, my first love is a billionaire, and my husband became a butcher.] Some people reprimanded her and her first love in the comment section. Others reminisced about their past. I scrolled to the end of the post and saw the latest reply. [I’m back in the city, and I’ve decided to meet him.]

In the third year of our marriage, my wife’s ex-boyfriend of eight years suddenly posted a picture on social media showing off a multi-million-dollar wedding house. His caption read: “Wow, got myself a huge villa, I’m the master of charming women!” I stared in shock at the picture, which showed my wife swiping her card at a sales office, and left a single comment: "?" A second later, my wife called to scold me. “I was just fulfilling a promise I made to him back when we were dating, buying him a house. Why are you getting mad at him?” “What? Are you really going to be so vicious as to force me to break my word?” That evening, her ex showed off another lavish post, this time flaunting a renovation bill worth hundreds of thousands. I knew it was a gift from my wife to please him. But by then, I no longer cared.

In the last six months, I have been away for work. But when I come home, I find out that my wife, Vanessa Hudson, is now three months pregnant. She insists that she hasn't been cheating on me. But her ex-boyfriend's post online tells a different story. Harold Quinton writes, "Thank you, Vanessa, for fulfilling my dream of becoming a father. You've worked so hard through ovulation, egg retrieval, and implantation, mother of my child." Harold has a very severe case of erectile dysfunction. The moment I find out my wife has gotten pregnant with another man's test tube baby, I feel bitter inside. I dial my boss' number and say to her, "I'm willing to take on the overseas general manager position that you offered me previously." Then, I turn to Vanessa and say, "Let's get a divorce."

My car is parked properly in its own slot, and yet my neighbor decides to take a photo of it so that he can post it on the residents' group chat. His tone is clearly passive-aggressive. "Look, everyone! This car is parked sideways and has taken up two parking slots! Does the car owner even have a shred of moral decency? "She thinks the public parking lot is now her own property just because she's paying the parking rent!" I don't say anything at all. Instead, I just upload photos of my property deeds. "Excuse me, but first of all, these two slots are my private parking slots. Secondly, if you start counting from those two slots six times to the right, you'll find eight parking slots. Yeah, those are all mine."

Five years after migrating abroad, my husband, Shawn Johnson, brings his true love and her son home. "Jill and Neil are new here. They'll be staying with us for a few days." He and I get into a huge fight over this. On my birthday, Shawn hands me a divorce agreement. He says, "Hurry up and sign it. Jill needs this country's citizenship, so let's divorce for show first." I frown, wanting to ask for more details. However, he points at me and calls me heartless. Shortly after, I see Jill's social media update. "Shawnie divorced his wife for me and Neil! We finally have a roof over our heads." I like the post and sign the divorce agreement. Then, I submit an application to my company to be transferred home.

It all began with a single post about canceling a food delivery order. Overnight, I became the internet's punching bag. Thousands of vicious messages flooded my inbox, filled with photoshopped memorials urging me to die. They doxxed my family, plastered my personal details across shady websites, and used AI to create obscene images of me, spreading them in vile chat groups. They spread lies about my income, claiming it came from illicit sources, and accused me of carrying diseases. I didn't call the police or block the messages. Instead, I read every hateful word before singling out the 100 worst offenders. Every day, I sent each one a luxurious meal: Boston lobster, Australian wagyu, the works. Each delivery came with a simple note: [Thank you for your hard work.]

Today is the sixth time my girlfriend, Shirley Lake, is supposed to meet my parents. My parents and I wait at the restaurant for four whole hours. I call her over and over again, but she never picks up. Just as I'm about to try one last time, I see Shirley's childhood sweetheart, Joshua Solomon, post a picture on his Instagram, with the location tagged at a suburban hotel. The picture shows a woman's pale back, one shoulder bare, with a striking red spider lily tattoo visible on her skin. Underneath the picture was the caption, "We'll make it from 18 to 80." A mutual friend comments, "First-love couples are the sweetest!" I silently hit the like button, then comment, "Make sure to get buried together when you die. And don't come back to haunt anyone else."

Waking up with boobs, beauty, and deadly lightning powers wasn’t on Abby’s bingo card—but then again, neither was dying of a terminal illness and reincarnating as a bullied noblewoman in a magical kingdom. Now Lady Abby MacMayer has one goal: live loud, live free, and never be a victim again. With a sword in one hand and sarcasm in the other, she shocks the realm—literally—and catches the eye of the kingdom’s most powerful and brooding mage, Duke Alaric. He’s duty. She’s chaos. He trains her to control her power. She ruins his peace of mind. The sparks? Not just magical. But when a war brews, a dungeon rift opens, and a prophecy threatens the man she loves, Abby vanishes in battle… only to return years later with no memory and no magic. Everyone believes she’s lost. Only the queen knows she remembers everything—and is hiding the truth to protect Alaric from a fate worse than heartbreak. Lightning may strike twice... but love? Love will burn through time, lies, and destiny itself.

When an Alpha of a pack has two sons on the same day, a duel will be held, and the winner of the fight becomes the next Alpha. Ash, a fiery Omega maid was at the arena, carrying out her duties when she perceived the most pleasant smell ever, "Mate!" Her wolf growled inside her. Not caring about the punishment she would suffer, she abandoned her duty post and followed the smell... She was astonished and stopped with fear when she saw her mate was one of the Quinn brothers. The infamous Viking Devil that drinks beer from the skulls of those he had killed... Their eyes locked and he whispered to her. "Mate!" They walked towards each other. But instead of claiming her like he should, he walked past her to embrace another she-wolf behind her. Her sworn enemy. "Mate!" Her heart thudded painfully when she heard them say to each. It was a conspiracy that began decades before they were both born. A conspiracy they were determined to unravel or die trying.