Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women
Chapter 1071

Chapter 1071: Chapter 1071

As she spoke, the hum deepened, and a shadow flickered in the trees beyond the clearing. Jude turned sharply, hand on his knife. But nothing moved again.

Then, they heard laughter.

Low, feminine, drifting through the trees like mist. It was Susan’s voice. Then Zoey’s. Then Rose’s.

They were close.

Jude grabbed Sophie’s hand and pulled her behind a thick root system at the edge of the clearing. From there, hidden in the underbrush, they watched.

The four of them walked into the clearing hand in hand, heads tilted upward, eyes glowing faintly in the dim light. Rose was humming again. Layla followed, swaying gently. Zoey and Susan moved in perfect sync, steps matching, hands interlaced.

They circled the spiral slowly, then stopped at the obsidian stone. Rose knelt first, pressing her palm against it, whispering a language Jude didn’t understand. The others followed, touching the stone, whispering back.

The spiral pulsed.

Jude blinked. The ground didn’t move, but the spiral pulsed, like a heartbeat. The stone shimmered, and the air around it bent. Warped. The petals at the edges of the clearing lifted without wind, floating softly into the air like tiny moths.

And then, the shadows moved.

A tall figure emerged from between the trees. Slender, long-limbed, almost human but not. Its skin shimmered like oil and bark, its face obscured by a mass of twisting branches that formed something like a crown. Its fingers were too long. Its legs didn’t bend correctly.

Jude’s heart stopped. Sophie gasped silently beside him.

The women didn’t react to the creature. They bowed their heads. The thing stepped into the spiral. The ground didn’t crack or tremble, but the space itself seemed to ripple, as if resisting its presence. And then, it placed one hand on Rose’s head.

She didn’t flinch. She smiled. Her mouth opened, and the same strange, haunting chant poured from her lips. Then from Layla’s. Then Zoey’s. Then Susan’s.

The figure lifted its head, and a low vibration filled the air, a sound too deep to hear, but felt. Jude doubled over, teeth clenched, vision swimming. Sophie held his shoulder, steadying him, face pale and stricken.

The figure stepped backward and vanished into the trees without another sound.

The women stood. Rose looked around slowly, as if listening to something none of them could hear. Then she smiled again.

"They’re ready," she whispered.

The others nodded.

And then they left the clearing.

Jude and Sophie didn’t move for several minutes, breathing hard, bodies pressed flat against the earth. Only once the forest fell completely silent did Jude stand, pulling Sophie up with him.

They left without speaking.

Back at the treehouse, the others had returned. The fire was crackling, the smell of honeyfruit in the air. Laughter and music drifted through the trees.

Rose greeted them at the path.

"There you are," she said brightly. "We saved you some fruit."

Jude stared at her. Her eyes were too dark. Too deep.

"Thanks," he said quietly, brushing past her.

Later that night, he sat alone by the river, knees drawn up to his chest. Sophie joined him, handing him a slice of fruit. He didn’t eat it.

"They’re summoning something," he said.

"I think they already did."

He looked up at the stars. "How do we stop it?"

Sophie’s voice was soft. "We might already be too late."

Behind them, laughter rang through the trees.

And Rose smiled into the night.

Jude woke before the sun touched the treetops. The fire was still glowing faintly in the pit outside the house, and the scent of damp wood and last night’s honeyfruit still lingered. He hadn’t slept. Not really. His body had given up sometime during the night, lulled into a shallow, uneasy rest by exhaustion more than peace. Sophie was beside him, curled into a tight shape, her breaths soft but uneven. Even in sleep, she seemed tense, like her body could sense the wrongness surrounding them.

He stood carefully, not waking her, and stepped out into the soft dawn. The path leading from the house was empty. No sound. No movement. Just the rhythm of waves far off on the beach and the occasional drip of water from dew-heavy leaves. He walked toward the river, the only place that still felt remotely untouched, as if the water somehow resisted the growing pulse of whatever was taking root in the woods.

But he didn’t make it there.

Halfway down the trail, he heard it, soft humming. Familiar now. A tune that twisted through the trees like ivy, snaking into his ears before he could shut it out. He crouched behind a thick cluster of ferns and waited. Footsteps approached, barefoot, light, dancing on the forest floor like petals.

It was Susan.

She moved with that same grace the others had begun to share, that sensual, hypnotic sway like she wasn’t walking so much as gliding. Her hair was loose, tangled with bits of flower and moss, and her eyes glittered even in the low light. Behind her came Zoey, then Layla. All three of them smiling. None of them speaking.

They passed close enough for Jude to hear the sound of their breathing, the faint rustle of their fingers brushing against leaves, and then they were gone, moving deeper into the forest, toward the clearing.

Jude didn’t follow them. Not yet. Not alone.

He turned back, made his way quickly to the house. Sophie was awake now, sitting on the wooden ledge outside, staring at the horizon where the first pink strokes of morning were just beginning to stretch.

"I saw them," he said, breath catching. "Susan’s with them now."

She nodded slowly. "They’re multiplying. Like a rhythm catching in a song."

"They were humming again."

Sophie stood, brushing her hands on her thighs. "We need to tell someone."

"Who? Emma? Natalie? Grace? What if they’re next? What if telling them is what spreads it?"

Sophie chewed her lip, looking torn. "Then we need to keep watch. Stay close. See who it moves to next."