Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women
Chapter 1070

Chapter 1070: Chapter 1070

The rest of the day passed with a surreal quality. Rose kissed Stella on the cheek and whispered something that made her laugh too hard. Layla spent most of the afternoon pressed against Natalie’s side, hands constantly moving, touching, teasing. Zoey fed Emma berries one at a time, her smile dreamy and soft. Jude watched it all from the hammock, arms behind his head, eyes barely open, pretending to nap.

Sophie sat next to him after dinner, her hands resting in her lap.

"They kissed Susan," he murmured.

"I saw."

"They’re spreading it."

"I know."

"We’re running out of time."

"I know."

He turned his head to look at her. "Do you think they know?"

Sophie’s lips barely moved. "Not yet. But they will."

He reached for her hand and squeezed it.

That night, he stayed up late, eyes fixed on the ceiling. The house was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of movement and soft breathing. He waited, heart slow and heavy. Just after midnight, the floor creaked.

He sat up, careful not to wake Emma.

Three figures moved through the shadows. Rose. Layla. Zoey.

They left the house in silence.

But this time, they weren’t alone.

Susan followed.

He rose, barely breathing, and watched from the window as the four of them disappeared into the trees.

Morning came with a strange energy. Birds louder than usual. Air thick with warmth.

Susan returned before sunrise, barefoot and smiling. Her lips were stained with berry juice, or something that looked like it. Her hands were shaking slightly.

Jude didn’t say anything. Not yet.

He saw her later, sitting between Rose and Zoey. Her hair was down, windblown. And when she turned to look at him, her eyes sparkled.

And then she smiled. Wide. Cold. Familiar.

Under the pale blue light of early dawn, Jude crouched behind the tall ferns just outside the treehouse, watching. The island was quiet in a way that didn’t comfort him. The usual chatter of birds, the rustle of branches, even the distant sound of water flowing at the river’s bend all seemed muffled, as if the island itself was holding its breath. The air was thick and still, sweet with the smell of blooming flowers and something else, something heady and unfamiliar, like fermented nectar.

Inside the treehouse, he could see Susan moving between Rose and Layla, brushing a hand along Zoey’s shoulder as she passed. They were seated around the low table, laughing softly, whispering to each other like children conspiring in secret. Their eyes darted toward the window more than once, as if they knew someone was watching. But they never looked directly at Jude.

He didn’t go inside right away. He waited until most of them had left for their morning routines, Emma and Stella were heading toward the garden, Grace was gathering dry herbs, and Natalie was washing laundry by the stream. Rose, Layla, Zoey, and Susan had disappeared into the woods not long after waking, taking a basket of fruit and a few flasks of water with them.

Only Sophie remained inside, sitting near the firepit with her knees pulled close, staring into the coals as if trying to read some message in the ashes. When Jude entered, she didn’t look up.

"They took Susan," he said quietly.

"I know."

He sat beside her, letting the warmth from the fire seep into his skin. He didn’t speak again for a while. Neither did she.

"It’s spreading," he finally said. "Whatever it is. Rose started it. Then Layla. Then Zoey. Now Susan."

Sophie nodded slowly. "They’re connected. And I think it has something to do with that place in the woods. The one where I followed them."

Jude’s gaze drifted to the window again. "What do you remember?"

"I remember the hum. The way the air felt thicker. The light was wrong, it shimmered, like it was underwater. And their voices weren’t just voices. They echoed. Even when they whispered. And Rose... she was chanting something. Not in English. Not in anything I’ve ever heard."

Jude turned fully toward her. "We need to go back there."

She looked at him, wide-eyed. "Just us?"

He nodded. "We can’t bring the others. Not until we understand what’s happening. Not until we know what we’re dealing with."

They made a plan to go at dusk, when the others would be distracted, likely wrapped up in their strange, growing rituals. Jude spent the rest of the day gathering small supplies, a hunting knife, a rope, a waterskin, a flintstone, and a scrap of watcherscript cloth he kept hidden beneath his mattress. It had once pulsed with light. Now it lay dull and gray.

He found Stella and Emma by the herb wall and smiled at them, keeping his voice light. "Thinking of making dinner special tonight?"

Emma grinned. "Susan said she’d bring back honeyfruit. If she finds it, we’re making a syrup."

Jude nodded. "Sounds perfect."

He walked the perimeter of their home slowly, watching the wind shift through the trees, waiting for the moment to leave. As the sun dipped behind the western edge of the island, casting golden shadows across the sky, Jude and Sophie slipped away. They moved in silence through the forest, dodging thickets and curling vines, moving with practiced stealth. Neither of them spoke. They didn’t need to.

When they reached the clearing, the air shifted immediately. A pressure against their chests. Jude felt it first, his skin tingling, his breath catching. Sophie touched his wrist and pointed.

The ground was still marked with patterns. Spiral grooves etched into the earth, bordered by piles of small stones and strange bone-like twigs that formed runes neither of them recognized. In the center of the spiral sat a flat stone, black and slick like obsidian, surrounded by dried petals and withered roots. It smelled of rot and sweetness.

Jude stepped forward carefully, the air humming in his ears. "This is where they come."

Sophie crouched near one of the runes, touching it gently. "It’s like a door," she whispered. "But not to another place. A door to something inside."