Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women
Chapter 1075

Chapter 1075: Chapter 1075

Jude ran his fingers across it, feeling the grooves.

Sophie stood beside him, clutching his arm. "Do you think this is connected to them?"

"I don’t know," he murmured. "But it’s ancient."

She bent closer to examine the carvings. "These markings... they’re like the ones on the monster we saw. On its skin."

Jude nodded slowly. "We need to tell someone. But not everyone. Just... the ones who aren’t affected."

"Who do you trust now?" Sophie asked.

He sighed. "You. Stella, I think. Natalie. Maybe Grace."

As they turned to leave, Sophie froze. Her grip on Jude’s hand tightened painfully.

"What is it?"

"Don’t move," she whispered.

Across the grove, standing perfectly still at the edge of the trees, was the figure.

The monster.

They didn’t run. They didn’t scream. It just stood there. No eyes, but its head tilted slightly, like it saw everything. Its body shimmered faintly, runes pulsing just beneath the skin, glowing blue for a heartbeat, then fading. Then glowing again. Like a signal. A message.

Then it disappeared. Not in a burst. Not in a blink. It simply faded, like mist unraveling.

Sophie released a shaky breath.

"They’re warning us," she said.

"Or luring us," Jude replied.

They returned before sundown, clothes still damp, hearts still racing. They said nothing about the structure. Nothing about the monster. Not yet.

But that night, Jude gathered Stella and Grace while Sophie pulled Natalie aside. Quietly, in the flickering shadows of their campfire, they told them everything, every detail, from Rose’s fall to Zoey’s transformation, the strange smiles, the seduction, the temple in the woods, and the glowing monster that didn’t attack.

Grace listened silently, nodding slowly. "I’ve felt it," she said. "Something pressing on my thoughts. Something trying to slip in."

Stella shivered. "Then it’s spreading."

Natalie looked from face to face. "What do we do?"

"We watch," Sophie said. "And we don’t split up anymore."

They agreed.

But across the camp, Rose danced beneath the trees with Layla and Zoey, twirling with laughter that didn’t quite belong in their throats. When they looked toward the fire, all three of them wore that smile, perfect, unshakable, sharp as glass.

That night, Jude slept with Sophie clutched tightly in his arms.

In the dream, he saw the monster again.

But this time, it wasn’t alone.

There were others. Dozens. Watching from the trees, breathing in unison.

And every single one of them was smiling.

The fire had almost gone out, low embers pulsing softly in the cradle of stones as the night stretched deeper. The trees stood unnaturally still around them, like tall voyeurs holding their breath. Jude’s eyes snapped open before dawn, before even the first bird call. He didn’t know why, just that something felt off.

Sophie wasn’t beside him.

The blanket still carried the shape of her body, still warm, but she was gone. Jude sat up, every sense sharpening. His first instinct wasn’t panic. It was confusion, followed closely by a cold sliver of dread curling inside his chest. He stood quickly, pulling on his shirt, his eyes darting around the sleeping camp.

Everyone else seemed asleep, tangled together in pairs or alone under thin blankets. But not Sophie.

He moved fast, slipping past the still shapes of his wives until he reached the edge of the camp where the brush grew thick. Something about the air was... wrong. It tasted strange, metallic almost, like the air before a thunderstorm. He followed it.

And there, just past the thornbushes where the moonlight kissed the mossy ground, he saw her.

Sophie stood barefoot in the clearing, her back to him, arms slack at her sides, eyes wide open and fixed on the trees. Her nightdress clung to her body, damp with dew or sweat. Her skin was glowing pale in the moonlight, and when Jude called her name softly, she didn’t move.

"Sophie?" he whispered again, stepping closer.

She turned.

Her smile was slow. Deliberate. Too deliberate.

It mirrored the one he had seen on Rose. Then Layla. Then Zoey.

And it shattered him.

"Sophie," he said again, his voice barely holding itself together. "Talk to me."

She blinked, tilted her head, and for a heartbeat her face softened. "Jude..."

Relief swelled in him, but then, she took a step closer, her hand brushing against his chest, and the moment she touched him, it felt wrong. Her fingers didn’t tremble. Her breath was steady. But there was nothing behind her eyes.

No confusion. No fear. No Sophie.

She kissed him. Deeply. Passionately. But it wasn’t the kind of kiss she used to give him after nights curled together whispering dreams. It wasn’t love. It was hunger. Precise. Mechanical. Her hips pressed to his, her hands sliding beneath his shirt with the kind of seductive confidence she rarely displayed, even in her boldest moments.

And part of him still responded.

His body remembered her. Longed for her. Wanted to believe this was still Sophie.

But his mind knew better.

He pulled back, just slightly. Her lips lingered, brushing against his jaw, her breath sweet and steady.

"Do you love me?" she asked.

"Yes," he whispered. "Always."

"Then don’t fight me," she said. "Be mine."

And for a terrifying moment, he almost gave in.

But then her smile slipped, just a little. And the tilt of her head wasn’t Sophie’s. It was Rose’s. And her hand gripped his wrist with more strength than she ever used.

He broke the contact.

"Sophie, please," he said, stepping back, voice cracking. "Tell me where you went. What happened to you?"

She stared at him. For one unbearable second, he thought she might scream or attack or vanish.

But instead, she blinked, and began to cry.

Jude’s heart seized.

She collapsed into him, and he caught her, held her tightly as sobs tore from her throat. She was shaking, clawing at his chest, whispering, "It’s in me, Jude, I can feel it. I tried to fight it, but I’m slipping, I’m slipping, "