Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women
Chapter 1101

Chapter 1101: Chapter 1101

The three of them disappeared down the trail toward the river, leaving silence behind.

"We can’t let them go alone with anyone," Emma said firmly. "Not anymore."

"They’ll try to separate us," Jude said. "We have to stick together."

They spent the rest of the morning pretending to go about their routine, checking the traps, collecting dry wood, tending to the fire, but none of them strayed too far from each other. Susan, Natalie, Grace, and Stella remained behind with them, each seemingly untouched so far, though their eyes held confusion, distraction, and a strange longing that hadn’t been there before.

Sophie sat with Susan near the fire, talking softly about the old days, the early days when they first arrived and struggled to survive. Jude watched her subtly, noting the way Susan smiled a little too long, the way her gaze lingered toward the path Rose had taken.

"She’s getting to her," Sophie whispered when Susan went to fetch water. "It’s only a matter of time."

"They’re isolating us by infecting the heart of each group," Emma said. "Next it’ll be Grace or Stella. I can feel it."

Natalie returned soon after with a handful of berries and a bright smile. "Zoey says we’re going to build something tonight," she said sweetly. "Like a bonfire. She said it’ll be... enlightening."

That made Jude’s stomach sink.

By late afternoon, the group that had gone to the river returned. Their clothes were soaked and clinging, their bodies glowing from the cold, their eyes gleaming with something deeper. Rose walked at the center, surrounded by the others like a queen returned from a sacred rite. And now Natalie walked beside her too, close, too close.

Sophie’s breath caught. "They got her."

Jude didn’t speak. He couldn’t. Not when Natalie turned back, and her lips curled into that now-familiar smile.

Stella was next. They could all feel it. She clung close to Grace that evening, sitting together while preparing food, talking in low voices. Stella was visibly tense, her eyes darting toward the others and then back to Grace like she was searching for safety. She had noticed the shift, she was afraid. That made her vulnerable.

"I’ll keep her with me tonight," Emma said. "If I can just keep her awake..."

But Rose was already moving. She drifted through the camp like smoke, touching arms, whispering in ears, pressing kisses to cheeks. When she came to Jude, she paused, laying a hand on his chest and looking up at him like she could still reach whatever part of him hadn’t closed to her.

"You don’t have to fight it," she said softly. "This could be beautiful."

"I’ve already seen what it becomes," he replied.

"You’ve only seen the beginning." She smiled again. "The bloom hasn’t fully opened yet."

She left him then, moving toward Grace and Stella with casual grace, as if she wasn’t about to change them forever.

That night, Jude, Sophie, and Emma took turns watching. They didn’t speak much. Just sat in the darkness, eyes flicking to each figure curled near the fire. They noticed how Natalie and Lucy shared whispered giggles, how Zoey and Layla were sleeping side by side, arms entangled. Susan and Grace had begun to hold hands unconsciously, and Stella, sweet and small, slept beside them with her fingers still clutching Grace’s shirt.

They held on to hope.

But by morning, Stella was different.

She greeted everyone with hugs, her voice lilting and sugary, her eyes shining too brightly. She twirled in the morning sun and kissed Grace on the lips before running into the woods with Zoey and Natalie. When they returned, Grace was with them. And now she was smiling too.

Emma’s hand tightened around her spear. "Only Susan left."

"No," Sophie said quietly. "Just you, me, Jude, and Susan. That’s all that’s left."

They confronted Susan near the edge of the river, where she’d gone to collect water. Sophie approached first, speaking gently.

"Susan... you have to stay with us. Don’t go off alone. Not with them."

Susan looked up, startled. "What do you mean?"

"You’ve seen it, haven’t you?" Jude asked. "They’re not just acting different. They’re being changed. Controlled."

Susan looked between them, her breath shaky. "I, I don’t know. I just know when I’m near Rose, everything feels... clear. Like I belong."

"You already belong," Sophie said. "With us. With yourself."

Susan closed her eyes, shaking. "She said if I resist, I’ll be alone forever."

Jude stepped forward and took her hands. "You’re not alone. Not if you stay with us."

Susan trembled, but nodded slowly. "Okay. Okay, I’ll stay."

But it was already too late.

That evening, they returned to camp only to find Susan sitting between Rose and Layla, her hair wet from the river, her eyes vacant with pleasure. And when she turned her head to look at them, she smiled.

That same terrible, perfect smile.

Jude’s heart cracked. They were down to three.

Later that night, the fire crackled high as the now-nine women danced around it. Rose led them in strange harmonies, voices twisting into watchersongs Jude had never heard. They moved in patterns, their bodies weaving and shifting, touching one another in slow worship. It was erotic, intimate, disturbingly serene.

Sophie sat frozen, her knuckles white. "She’s turning them into something else."

"She already has," Emma said, her voice hard.

But Jude couldn’t stop watching. Even through the horror, the sight of them, his wives, beautiful and wild, dancing half-naked in flickering firelight, dug into his soul. Part of him wanted to join. To surrender. To feel what they were feeling. Whatever it was, it looked... good. It looked free.

Sophie touched his arm, grounding him.

"Don’t," she whispered. "That’s exactly how she gets in."

And suddenly Rose turned, her body glowing from sweat and moonlight, and her voice rang over the music.

"Jude. Come dance with us."

He shook his head slowly.

She smiled. "You’ll give in soon. You always do."

Jude didn’t answer.