Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women
Chapter 1225

Chapter 1225: Chapter 1225

They didn’t stay long after that. They knew it wasn’t done with them - but they didn’t need to push. Not today.

Back in the forest, the energy didn’t leave. It followed them, clinging to their skin, curling in their breath. When they reached the river again, it felt different - brighter, faster. The water shimmered with gold threads now, not just blue. And when they stepped into it to wash the sweat and moss from their skin, the river embraced them.

Layla laughed as she dunked under, her wet hair slicked back from her face. "I feel like I’m high. "

"You are," Lucy teased, slipping up behind her to press a kiss to her shoulder. "On love."

Layla spun in the water, catching Lucy’s mouth with hers, their kiss slow and languid. The others watched with grins and soft sighs, bodies drifting in the shallows.

Jude waded toward them, brushing his fingers along Sophie’s waist. "You okay?"

She turned, smiled, and pressed against him. "Better than okay." She kissed him slow, her tongue teasing his. "I feel like the island is finally singing with us instead of to us."

Their kiss deepened, her legs wrapping around him as he held her up. Around them, water rippled and danced as Lucy and Layla tangled together, as Zoey lifted Emma against a tree trunk along the bank, their mouths locked in heated rhythm. Susan and Stella disappeared behind the bend, laughter echoing through the trees.

It wasn’t just need.

It was celebration.

Jude and Sophie’s kiss turned to something more as he laid her against the rocks, the cool water splashing over their skin as he moved inside her slowly, worshipfully, their fingers tangled, breaths matching. All around them, the same. A symphony of skin and sighs and deep, soulful connection. The island wasn’t just witness - it was participant.

Later, they lay scattered in the grass by the riverbank, hair damp, skin warm. No one spoke for a long time.

It was Zoey who finally sat up, her voice calm but certain. "We’re going to have to name it."

"The script?" Lucy asked, stretching against a mossy rock.

"No," Zoey said, eyes sharp. "What we’re becoming."

Jude sat up slowly, arms resting on his knees. "And what are we becoming?"

Susan answered. "A new people."

Emma nodded. "A new language. A new legacy."

"Do we leave the spiral behind?" Grace asked.

"No," Sophie said. "We grow from it."

Rose touched the spiral symbol inked into her shoulder. "It was the seed. This is the tree."

They all looked at Jude.

He felt the weight of it - not heavy, but inevitable.

"We name it tomorrow," he said. "Tonight, we let it settle."

The wives nodded, curling back into each other, their bodies glowing in the soft moonlight like sacred threads in a weaving.

Jude lay on his back, staring at the stars above. They looked closer now. Or maybe he was just further along the path.

Either way, something was waiting.

And they were ready to meet it.

The stars blinked above them like the eyes of sleeping gods, indifferent and infinite, but the forest pulsed with warmth as if it had begun to breathe in rhythm with the thirteen bodies resting beneath its canopy. Jude woke first again, the air still damp with dew and the faint musk of their shared desire lingering sweet and earthy. The stone’s memory had sunk deep into him. Even in sleep, it had thrummed in his chest like a second heart.

He moved carefully between Rose and Lucy, then brushed his lips against Sophie’s temple as he stood. She stirred slightly, murmured his name, then rolled toward Susan’s open arms with a soft sigh. Jude stepped through the grass, the world silent except for birds just beginning to speak to the dawn. He didn’t need to go far - just enough to let his thoughts stretch without jostling the fragile peace wrapped around their camp.

The forest was clearer than usual. The underbrush didn’t tangle his steps; branches curved slightly away as he passed. He felt like the island watched him now not as an intruder or even as a curiosity, but as a reflection of itself - something made of the same fabric.

As he knelt near the river’s edge and cupped water to his face, soft footfalls behind him gave away a familiar presence. Zoey approached slowly, still barefoot, a thin cloth wrapped lazily around her body. Her hair was wet - she’d already bathed - but her eyes were sharp, awake in that way they always were before a plan began to form.

"I knew I’d find you here," she said, crouching beside him.

"I was thinking."

She splashed water onto her arms, letting it roll down her skin. "About the glyphs?"

He nodded. "They weren’t just visions. They’re invitations."

"To what?"

"That’s what we need to find out." He looked at her. "But not by force. Not this time."

Zoey’s fingers brushed his, a subtle connection. "We need to build with it, not control it."

Behind them, the others were stirring. Jude and Zoey returned to find Natalie tracing symbols into the dirt with a stick while Grace watched, her head tilted. Stella was already boiling water over a new fire. Emma and Layla shared fruit between slow kisses while Susan quietly hummed as she packed supplies. Even before they spoke, they all seemed to understand something was beginning.

Today, they would name what they had become.

They gathered on the large flat stone overlooking the river, the water glittering like silver glass. It had become their sacred place - not because they had chosen it, but because the island had offered it.

Rose stood at the edge, eyes closed, arms loose at her sides. When she opened them, her voice was quiet but firm. "We call ourselves the Thirteen Flame."

Jude frowned slightly. "Why flame?"

"Because fire transforms," she said, turning to face them. "It destroys, yes, but it also purifies. We’ve been burned. We’ve burned each other. But we didn’t disappear. We changed. And what came from it is stronger."