Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women
Chapter 1090

Chapter 1090: Chapter 1090

"They’re going to come for us," she whispered. "Both of us."

"Let them try," he said, but his voice didn’t carry conviction.

She lifted her head. "We can’t just wait. We have to do something."

The next morning, they returned cautiously. The camp was calm, eerie in its tranquility. Rose and the others sat in a circle, braiding each other’s hair, weaving flowers, feeding each other fruit with slow, sensual fingers. The way they moved, the way they smiled, it was like they were one being in many bodies. None of them acknowledged Jude and Sophie’s return, but Rose’s eyes followed them, and her smile deepened slightly.

It was Zoey who approached them.

"We were worried about you," she said, brushing hair from Sophie’s face.

"We needed some space," Sophie replied.

"Of course." Zoey’s eyes glittered. "But you should be here. With us."

"We’re here," Jude said quickly, his hand at the small of Sophie’s back.

Zoey’s fingers lingered on Sophie’s arm for a second longer than necessary before she turned and walked back to the others. Sophie exhaled.

"She’s next," Sophie muttered. "I can feel it."

"No," Jude said, guiding her toward their hut. "We’re not letting that happen."

But later that afternoon, while Sophie slept, Jude went to fetch water alone. And that’s when Susan appeared.

She was leaning by the edge of the stream, her hair wet and glistening in the light, her dress clinging to her body in all the right places. She smiled when she saw him and stepped into the water, letting it rise around her hips.

"Come swim," she said softly.

"I don’t think that’s a good idea," Jude replied, trying to stay casual.

"I’m not trying to seduce you," she said, laughing. "Just trying to cool off."

He should have walked away. But something about the way she stood there, relaxed, her skin glowing with water and light, it pulled at him.

He stepped closer.

Just to talk, he told himself.

But as soon as he stepped into the water, she moved to him. Her arms slid around his waist, and her head rested against his chest.

"I miss you," she whispered. "You used to hold me like this."

"I still do," he said quietly, though his hands hadn’t moved.

"Not like before." Her lips brushed his collarbone. "Let us love you again. All of us. You’ll see, it’s better this way."

He tried to step back, but she kissed him. Soft, slow, drugging. For a terrifying second, he didn’t resist. Her lips were familiar. Her touch was warm.

Then he remembered Sophie’s face. Her voice. Her strength.

He pulled away.

Susan opened her eyes, her smile flickering.

"I know," she whispered. "You’re not ready yet."

She stepped back into the stream and let the current carry her slowly downstream, her fingers trailing through the water as she disappeared behind the curve.

When Jude returned, Sophie was waiting, her arms crossed, jaw tight.

"I saw," she said.

"It wasn’t, "

"I know," she cut him off. "But they’re closing in."

That evening, they called another fire gathering. But this time, Jude and Sophie stayed back. They watched from the edge of the trees as the wives danced around the fire, their bodies slick with oil, their movements hypnotic. It was no longer celebration, it was ritual.

They chanted softly, wordless sounds that hummed with unnatural harmony.

Then Natalie turned and looked directly at Sophie.

Sophie’s breath caught. She could feel it, the pull. The urge to step forward and join them.

"They’re calling me," she said.

"Stay with me," Jude whispered, gripping her hand.

But her eyes stayed locked with Natalie’s, and behind Natalie, Rose was smiling.

One by one, the others turned to face the trees. Silent. Waiting.

"Don’t let go," Jude said, voice trembling.

"I won’t," Sophie whispered.

But then, somewhere deeper in the forest, a sound rose up. A sharp, echoing cry. Not human. Not animal. A shriek that made the ground tremble and the fire pulse brighter.

The wives all looked toward the source.

So did Jude and Sophie.

And in the shadows beyond the firelight, it stood again.

The monster.

Its form was only half-seen, smoke and bone and lightless eyes. It didn’t move. It didn’t need to.

Sophie’s grip on Jude tightened. "They brought it here."

"They’re not just being changed," Jude whispered. "They’re helping it."

Then, slowly, the wives turned back to the fire, and with unnatural precision, they resumed dancing.

All of them except Susan, who turned toward the monster, knelt, and began to sing.

The sound of Susan’s voice wrapped through the trees like mist, soft and melodic, ancient in a way that made Jude’s skin crawl. He couldn’t understand the words, but the rhythm, the tone, it felt wrong, like something was burrowing under his skin with every note. Sophie didn’t speak. Her eyes were locked on Susan, whose face looked radiant in the firelight, mouth open in song, arms outstretched toward the monstrous figure in the woods. And though Jude expected fear, what he saw in Susan’s face was reverence.

The others danced behind her, their movements slowing, swaying in perfect unison, as if the music was weaving them together. Rose stepped forward then, placing her hand on Susan’s shoulder. She sang too. Then Layla. Then Zoey. Their voices intertwined like vines, forming something too smooth to be coincidence. It was harmony, too perfect, too rehearsed.

Jude pulled Sophie closer, his heartbeat thundering against her back. "We need to stop this."

"How?" she whispered. "Look at them."

Rose’s eyes opened mid-song. They locked with Jude’s across the flames, and she smiled again. Not malicious. Not kind. Just knowing.

"She knows we’re watching."

"We’re not hiding anymore," Jude said, stepping forward.

"Jude, "

He didn’t answer. He took Sophie’s hand and walked out of the shadows and into the firelight. The wives didn’t react. The song didn’t pause. Rose’s smile didn’t break. But something shifted. The fire pulsed higher, as if inhaling their presence.