Chapter 34 begins with everyone checking out the sexual warzone of demi-fey bodies. Everyone is scattered around the room with various injuries. Hafwyn can’t heal them all, so Merry wants them to get more sidhe healers for the demi-fey. But wait! Sidhe racism means that no sidhe healer would ever waste their talents on a lesser! Merry orders it anyway, and sends Doyle off to interrupt the Queen’s playtime (re: torture) to ask for more healers. But before they do, they spend several paragraphs deciding who to send with Doyle, because apparently no one is allowed to go anywhere on their own anymore.
And that’s it. That’s the entire chapter.
Chapter 35 begins with Merry looking at Royal, who is incredibly injured. His sister, Penny, is flipping out about it, saying that Merry caused the death of them all. Royal is in his death throes, apparently, and begs that Merry kiss him once before she dies.
So she does. Remember, Royal is about the size of a Barbie doll. Ever try making out with a Barbie doll? Or a Ken doll? Imagine just how ludicrous this looks.
It was like an hour of foreplay in one small kiss. His hand touched my bare breast, and he bit my lip. The touch was so much more than that tiny hand should have been able to deliver, as if he caressed the front of my body with a hand as large as any man’s. That small, sharp shock of pain was like the last thrust, the last lick, the last caress, for it spilled me over the edge and made me scream my pleasure into him. But it was as if his mouth were bigger. He were bigger. In that instant I would have sworn that I lay atop a full-sized lover, that the hands that touched me were another human or sidhe. That the body I was pressed against was not only full-sized, but well-sized.
I forgot everything but the feel of his body under mine. His hands exploring me. His mouth feeding at mine. His body searching between my legs, trying to find my opening. I think I would have let his last glamour undo me, but a sharp pain stabbed into my side, and broke his magic. I came to myself lying atop him, as much as our differences in size would allow.
So, Royal was just described as pretty much being on his last breath, but is able to pull of this insane glamour on Merry? And she wakes from it when the wooden splinter stabbing him stabs into her side. And Merry comes to laying on top of him.
So Hafwyn stops what she’s doing to go look at healing Merry, but Merry orders her to focus on Royal instead. Royal starts screaming, and then all the other wounded demi-fey scream with him. All of their wounds are spurting blood, and Merry feels the splinters in her side trying to push their way out of her body. Then, all the wooden splinters burst from the wounds of the demi-fey, as if the flesh rejected the wounds. No one knows whose power is accomplishing this.
Merry shouts out in pain as her splinters push their way out, and both Nicca and Galen reach out to stabilize Merry. This causes all of them to shout out in immense pain, as if they’re being attacked. Blood is gushing out of their wounds and all seems hopeless when suddenly everything stops. Merry orders the healers to look after the demi-fey first.
Royal is laying on his side, and wings are sprouting out of his back. In fact, all of the wingless demi-fey now have wings. And the chapter ends with Merry realizing that a moth with wings just like those that are now growing out of Royal has embedded itself into her stomach.
Okay seriously, if I came as easily as Merry does I would fucking HATE orgasms. Every single fuckin’ kiss she receives and she “screams her pleasure into their mouth.” What the fuck, lady? That isn’t sensual or desirable, that’s a serious, awful medical condition. Try ever going out in public knowing if someone handsome brushes his hand accidentally against yours, you’re going to have a full-blown screaming WET WET WEEETTTTT orgasm. Eugh.
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