Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women
Chapter 1336

Chapter 1336: Chapter 1336

It didn’t blind them.

It bathed them.

It coated their skin in soft silver and gold, a final blessing, a kiss from the island itself.

Rose collapsed beside him, gasping.

All of them lay in the sand, naked and warm and dazed, their limbs tangled, their hearts beating in time. The island hummed around them - pleased, sated, alive.

For the first time since arriving, Jude didn’t wonder what came next.

He didn’t have to.

They were home.

And the island was theirs.

The sky dimmed into twilight, a deep violet curtain that folded over the horizon, casting the newly born flower in a halo of starlight. The air turned cool and fragrant, the scent of fresh blooms and salt mingling with the musky heat of their bodies, still slick and tangled in the sand. Jude lay on his back, breath slow, arms cradling both Rose and Lucy, their heads resting on his chest. Around them, the others were curled into one another - Emma and Sophie with legs knotted like vines, Zoey draped across Natalie’s stomach, Stella holding Grace with a tenderness that went beyond words.

No one spoke for a long time. There was no need.

The flower at the center of the moss had stopped glowing, but its petals were still wide and shimmering faintly. Its stem had thickened, and from the roots, small tendrils crept outward, burrowing into the sand, spreading like veins from a living heart.

Jude brushed Rose’s damp hair back from her cheek. "What happens now?"

She blinked up at him slowly, her golden eyes soft, almost human again. "Now we keep it alive."

"By... doing this?"

"By staying bound," she whispered. "To each other. To the island. The pleasure is part of it - but so is the devotion. The trust. The letting go."

Emma rolled onto her side, propping herself on her elbow. "So the island isn’t just feeding on sex... it’s feeding on love."

"On union," Sophie added, her fingers tracing idle circles over Lucy’s bare back. "All of us, as one."

Zoey sat up, her hair wild and tangled around her face, her lips still swollen. "So what happens if someone breaks that?"

The question hung in the air like smoke.

Rose didn’t answer immediately. Her gaze moved over each of them, her expression unreadable. "Then the roots wither. The song falters. The bloom dies."

They all felt it then - that thread of fragile tension beneath the euphoria. A truth as old as the island: connection was a gift, but also a responsibility.

Stella kissed Grace’s shoulder, then murmured, "We won’t let that happen."

Natalie nodded. "We can’t."

Jude slowly sat up, gathering Lucy with him. She tucked herself into his side, still silent but glowing from within. He kissed her forehead. "We stay close. We stay honest. That’s how we survive."

"And thrive," Rose added, her voice lower now, more intimate. "The island will give us everything if we keep giving it everything."

Night fell fully, and the stars came out - brighter and clearer than they’d ever seen them. A gentle luminescence radiated from the petals still, just enough to bathe their naked bodies in soft silver light.

Sophie stood first, her silhouette elegant and sure. "We should sleep near the bloom tonight."

"Guard it," Emma said, joining her. "It feels... sacred."

They laid out blankets and moss pads, moving slowly, brushing against one another, sharing soft touches and sleepy kisses. Jude lay at the center again, arms full of warmth and breath and quiet sighs, with the flower just beyond his feet - glowing softly, breathing with them.

In the deep silence of the night, a soft sound rose.

A lullaby.

Not a song sung by one voice - but by the island itself. Wind through leaves, water slipping over stone, insects and distant birds forming melody. It wasn’t eerie this time. It was maternal. Soothing.

They all listened, eyes heavy, limbs entangled.

And one by one, they drifted to sleep.

Jude dreamed.

He stood beneath the tree again - the one from the cave, twisted and black and alive. But this time it was blooming, its branches full of silver petals and golden fruits. Around him stood the twelve women he loved, all dressed in robes of woven leaves and feathers, eyes glowing faintly, but with warmth, not corruption.

Rose stepped forward first, her hand outstretched.

"This is what we become," she whispered.

Jude took her hand.

The others followed, forming a ring beneath the blooming tree, their fingers laced, their heads bowed. The tree pulsed light downward, into their joined hands, and Jude felt something pour into him - not just power, not just desire, but understanding. This place. This island. It didn’t want to rule them.

It wanted to become them.

He woke before dawn, the sky still a rich navy overhead. The bloom beside them pulsed slowly, like the heartbeat of a sleeping god. Lucy stirred in his arms, then kissed his chest before closing her eyes again.

The others remained still, but not stiff - soft and breathing in time with the island. For the first time in what felt like forever, there was no looming threat, no eerie humming, no strange figures watching from the trees.

Only peace.

Only them.

Jude whispered, "Thank you."

The flower glowed slightly brighter in reply.

And the island breathed with them, deeper now, as if dreaming beside its lovers.

Jude rose just before the first glow of dawn stretched across the water. The breeze was cooler now, drifting from the sea and brushing over their naked bodies, stirring curls and feathers and moss blankets. Lucy shifted against his chest but didn’t wake. Around him, the others slept in gentle bundles of limbs and sighs - twelve women who had once been scattered pieces of his life and were now the rhythm of his breath.

He stood quietly and stepped away from the sleeping circle. The flower at the center of the moss pulsed as he passed, its soft glow casting a shimmer over his skin.