Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women
Chapter 1091

Chapter 1091: Chapter 1091

"You’re all awake," Jude said, his voice even but firm. "You can stop pretending."

The singing quieted.

Rose stepped forward, letting her fingers trail over the flames. "We’re not pretending, Jude."

Layla came beside her. "This is real. More real than you’ve ever felt."

Zoey’s lips were parted, her eyes heavy-lidded, and even Natalie and Grace were moving toward him, slow and fluid, like dancers underwater.

"We saw it," Sophie said, lifting her chin. "The monster. You’ve seen it too."

Rose tilted her head, her golden hair tumbling over one shoulder. "Yes. And it’s beautiful."

Jude felt Sophie tremble. "What is it?"

"A gift," Rose said. "A presence older than the island, deeper than the sea. It showed us what we are. What we can become."

"Is that what this is?" Jude asked. "Becoming?"

Rose stepped close to him. He didn’t move. Her fingers brushed his chest. "You feel it too, don’t you? The way the island hums differently. The way the nights taste sweeter. Don’t fight it."

Sophie stepped between them, her voice like ice. "He’s not yours."

Rose’s smile widened. "Not yet."

Jude pulled Sophie back. "We’re leaving."

Rose’s eyes gleamed. "There’s nowhere to go."

He didn’t answer. Just turned and walked. The forest swallowed them again, and this time, they didn’t stop until they were miles away. Near the cliffs, beneath the northern ridge, they found a cave long-abandoned, and there they built another fire. The wind howled outside, but inside, it was quiet.

Sophie knelt close to the flames, her hands shaking. "They’re gone."

"They’re still inside," Jude whispered. "We’ll bring them back."

She turned to him. "You saw Zoey. Layla. They’re not even trying to hide it anymore."

"That’s how we’ll know. Who’s next."

That night, they lay together again, not out of passion, but out of sheer need. Jude ran his fingers through her hair, traced the shape of her back, whispered her name like a prayer against her skin. Their kisses weren’t rushed, they were slow, searching, like two people afraid they might forget each other’s mouths by morning.

"I love you," he said softly, his forehead against hers.

She didn’t reply right away. Then, "I love you too. Even if we’re the last."

The next morning, they returned to camp.

They had to.

They found Susan alone by the river, brushing her hair with a carved comb. Her smile was soft, serene.

"Where are the others?" Jude asked.

She looked up. "Deep woods. At the pool."

Sophie stepped forward. "The reflecting pool?"

Susan nodded. "They wanted to show it to Grace."

Jude’s stomach turned. "She hasn’t been there before."

Susan just hummed.

They ran.

Branches whipped past them, the trail unfamiliar. The island had shifted again. But somehow, the path bent for them, drew them toward the place where moonlight met still water. They burst through the trees just as Grace stood at the edge of the pool, her toes in the water, her dress falling from her shoulders.

Rose was behind her. So were Layla and Zoey.

Jude shouted, but his voice came too late.

Grace stepped into the water.

Rose placed her hands on her shoulders.

Jude sprinted forward, splashing into the shallows. "Grace!"

She turned, startled. Her eyes were wide. Still clear.

Not yet.

He reached her and grabbed her arm, pulling her back. "Don’t listen to them."

"They’re just showing me," Grace said. "It’s beautiful."

"No. It’s not."

Then he looked up, and the reflection shifted.

Not Grace.

The monster.

Its face surfaced in the still water, mirrored in the moonlight, as if it had been beneath them all along. Its mouth opened wide. No sound came. Only a pull, a magnetic force trying to draw them in.

Jude yanked Grace backward just as Sophie plunged into the water beside him, tackling Zoey away from the edge.

The wives screamed, not in fear, but in frustration, like children denied a toy.

Rose watched it all with calm eyes.

And then she smiled again.

That same haunting smile.

They dragged Grace back through the woods. She was quiet, confused, her hand still cold from the water.

Back at camp, the others didn’t follow.

Not yet.

But that night, as Jude tried to sleep, something moved outside the hut.

A sound like leaves scraping wood.

A whisper against the wind.

He stepped out, half-expecting to see one of the wives waiting for him.

But there was no one.

Only the fire, still burning.

And in its glow, sitting alone, was Grace.

She was smiling. That same smile.

The smile on Grace’s face didn’t belong to her. It looked painted on, stretched just a little too wide, her lips parting like she was savoring something no one else could taste. Jude froze at the doorway of the hut, the firelight flickering against his bare chest, his breath catching in his throat as Grace tilted her head slowly toward him without blinking.

"You’re not sleeping," she said softly, as if she had been waiting for him.

Jude stepped closer, wary, cautious. "Neither are you."

She laughed, but it didn’t sound like her laugh. It was breathy, melodic, too smooth. "How could I sleep after seeing it?" she whispered, her fingers tracing circles on the ground beside her. "It was so warm... it showed me everything."

He knelt slowly across from her, eyes never leaving hers. "Grace," he said carefully, "what did you see?"

Her pupils expanded, consuming more of her irises. "You."

His breath hitched.

"You... and all of us. But different. Connected. Full. The way it was meant to be." She reached toward him but stopped just shy of his hand. "Rose helped me see. She only wants us to be happy, Jude."

The fire popped between them. He didn’t move. He couldn’t.

"Where are the others?" he asked.

Grace blinked slowly, then smiled again. "With her."

The fire dimmed for a moment like a gust had passed through, though no wind stirred. Jude stood and backed away without a word, slipping inside the hut.