All Chapters of The Alpha's Dragon: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

Adrewine's body convulsed instead, a shudder so violent it seemed to tear the air itself. A low strangled, guttural cry wrenched from her throat as her spine arched backward. The ground beneath her feet cracked. The air rippled then split.Merenrys stumbled back, eyes wide, as the child’s small frame began to distort—stretching, twisting, reforming. Bones popped like snapping branches, her skin tore in delicate seams that wept smoke instead of blood. Her shoulders split open, and from the fissures unfurled wings that shimmered wetly, each membrane swirling with the iridescent sheen of oil on water. Smoke coiled from them, black and alive, tasting of sulfur and burnt myrrh.“Adrewine…” Merenrys whispered again, her voice breaking into a tremor.But the creature that rose before her was no child. She stood now as a woman. Terribly beautiful. Her once-small body had blossomed into a form sculpted in temptation and terror. Her imbs long and graceful, skin a shade too pale, as if carved fro

Merenrys whispered an ancient command, a sound so old it seemed to scrape the marrow of the world. The glyphs flared to life across her skin, spiraling outward in molten streams of light. The desert answered with a roar, its silence splitting apart as the dunes convulsed and rose like awakening beasts.The sand began to move. First in ripples, then in rivers, then in tidal waves of gold and grit that bled fury. Each grain seemed alive, possessed by her will. The earth heaved, birthing colossal serpents of sand that twisted skyward with a hiss like shattering glass. Their bodies glistened with sunfire, they coiled around the dragons that opposed her, grinding their scales to dust.Wings beat in panic, slicing through clouds of dust, but the serpents only tightened. Scales cracked. Bones snapped beneath the pressure, a symphony of destruction echoing across the dunes. Some dragons tried to ignite the air with flame, yet their fires suffocated in the storm she commanded , swallowed whole

Then Merenrys rose.Her form unfurled into to its true shape, vast and terrible. Her scales caught the dim light and turned it into glimpse of ocean fire: teal and gold, gleaming like sunlit waves, smoothened across her entire dragon body. Along her neck and crown, her scales flowed upward into the semblance of a Nemes headdress, each ridge and fold glittering with embedded gemstones that pulsed like living stars. The gems were not adornment. They were arteries of her power, glowing brighter with every beat of her wrathful heart.Her wings spread wide. Vast fans of gold veined with teal, their surface shimmered with engraved hieroglyphics, alive and shifting, telling stories danger and power. Between the metallic membrane of her wings ran threads of electrum and crushed lapis.Her dragon eyes burned a mixture green and pink, glazed with grief so intense, that the eyes of any mortal who had seen it would have melted in a puddle. When she opened her mouth, her voice was thundered inhuma

Merenrys' hieroglyphs evolved with every battle, new symbols etching themselves into her skin. Some glowed red with flame, others black with smoke. The sun dimmed when she fought and the air trembled under her fury.Villages whispered her new name:The Scorching Rage of the Egyptian Desert.Standing behind the royal parapet, where the whole of Regyptre sprawled endlessly beneath her gaze, she remained haunted by the voices that had long since drowned out her husband’s promises.“Not enough.”The voice hissed inside her skull, sibilant and ancient."Not enough blood has been spilled for my revenge.”Merenrys lifted her gaze toward the horizon. “You said that three hundred years ago,” she whispered, her tone mocking. “And still, they come, like my history didn't exist, like nothing ever happened...”The hieroglyphs along her skin pulsed in answer, whispering in the language of the ancients.Merenrys.Burn who defies you.Her laugh came low and bitter. “As if I ever stopped.”“Do you stil

The Hall of Treyls was all light and reverence, the walls feigning life as Merenrys passed. She stood at the dais, a living goddess in gold and blue, her robes embroidered with burmese gold-thread embroidery and rare mulberry silk, that glowed in rhythm with her heartbeat.Moments later, Bemrylcad entered, still damp from his swim, his robe of white linen loose over his shoulders. Scrolls and ledgers filled his hands. The symbols of his post as Regyptre’s Chief Diplomat and Treasurer.He bowed low before his Merenrys, but his eyes, bright and knowing, did not stay lowered long.“My Queen,” he began, his voice deep and lyrical, with that irreverent ease only he could risk in her presence. “If I am not mistaken, Your Majesty has interrupted my moment of enlightenment in the pool.”Her sharp gaze, flicked to him. “Enlightenment? Is that what they call vanity these days?”He pressed a hand to his heart in mock agony, his absurdly handsome face twisted in an expression of exaggerated hurt