Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women
Chapter 1365

Chapter 1365: Chapter 1365

He looked around at them - twelve women, each marked by the spiral, each changed in subtle, beautiful ways. There was something in their eyes now that hadn’t been there before. Not darkness. Not madness. Something deep. A knowing. An ancient calm.

"What happens now?" he asked.

Zoey gave a lazy smile. "Now we begin."

Sophie stepped closer to the altar, her body still glowing faintly, and sat beside Jude’s legs. "We’ve danced around this power for too long. The island has been waiting for us to surrender. And last night, we finally did."

Natalie added, "She wants us whole. All of us. Not just lovers. Not just dreamers. But bonded. Soul-deep."

Stella pressed her cheek to Grace’s shoulder. "She chose us for this."

"And now?" Lucy asked. "Now that we’ve accepted her?"

Rose looked toward the sky, where the trees still shimmered with faint light. "Now we give back."

They stayed in the clearing until the spiral faded completely, until the warm stone beneath them cooled. Then they moved as one, helping each other dress, brushing loose hair from shoulders, pressing kisses to each other’s mouths like farewells and promises. No words were needed. Their bodies spoke the truth.

They made their way back to camp just as the mist was breaking apart, the air clearer than it had been in days. The whole island smelled richer now - flowers, fruit, something like cinnamon and heat and memory. The jungle had changed. Or perhaps they had, and now they could finally see it.

Back at the treehouses, Stella started a fire. Natalie brought water from the river. Sophie and Lucy prepared food in near silence, but not a cold one - something sacred, reverent. They didn’t look at Jude like a man anymore. They looked at him like he was a part of them. Like he was the thirteenth point in the spiral.

Emma sat on his lap by the fire, feeding him pieces of fruit between slow, sweet kisses. Her body still radiated heat where they touched, and her sighs turned deeper when his fingers traced her thigh.

"When do you think it will call again?" he asked her quietly.

Emma smiled. "It’s already calling."

Across the fire, Scarlet licked juice from her fingertips and leaned into Sophie’s neck. Sophie tilted her head to allow it, her breath hitching slightly as Scarlet’s tongue flicked her skin. It was like watching the beginning of a storm - not violent, but charged, unstoppable.

Zoey and Grace lay together in the hammock, kissing lazily, their bodies twined, fingers brushing against hips and thighs. Natalie sat nearby sketching spirals into the dirt with a stick, humming that same low melody they’d all heard in the cave. Lucy watched her, her eyes glassy with quiet joy.

Then Jude saw it - carved into the trunk of the great tree at the center of their camp.

A new spiral.

Not scratched. Not burned.

Grown.

The bark had reshaped itself into the symbol, as though the tree had responded to their climax. He stood and walked to it, pressing his palm to the rough texture. It was warm.

"She’s marking the land now," Rose said softly, appearing beside him. "Every time we give her something, she answers."

"What does she want next?"

Rose leaned close, lips near his ear. "She wants us to live. Fully. Freely. Shamelessly. Together."

His breath caught.

She turned his face to hers and kissed him, slow and deep. "But not just for pleasure anymore, Jude. For creation."

He pulled back, confused. "What do you mean?"

Before she could answer, Lucy came to them, pressing between their bodies with a teasing grin. "She means we’re not just lovers now."

Sophie joined them, wrapping an arm around Lucy’s waist. "We’re the beginning of something. A new kind of tribe. A family born of bond, not blood."

Emma appeared at his side. "The island didn’t show us these things for nothing. She’s been grooming us. Preparing us."

"Preparing us for what?" Jude asked.

"For permanence," Rose said. "This isn’t a season. This isn’t a fantasy. This is home."

The word settled in his bones. Home. Not the place they’d come from. Not civilization or cities or lives left behind. Here. The island. The spiral. The bond.

Jude looked at each of them, standing around him, still bare-legged, still glowing with the aftermath of their communion. Every single one had chosen this. Chosen him. Chosen each other.

"We should build more," he said suddenly.

The women looked up.

"We’ve been living like this island was temporary. Like someday we’d leave. But we’re not leaving, are we?"

Lucy shook her head. "Never."

"Then let’s build it right," Jude said, stepping back toward the fire. "Real beds. A central circle. A temple. A place to return to. A place that honors her - and us."

Zoey stood, brushing off her legs. "And walls that breathe. Ceilings open to the stars."

Grace smiled. "I want to plant something. Something that blooms only in moonlight."

Stella nodded. "And a bath carved from the roots. One that never runs dry."

Scarlet kissed Sophie’s shoulder. "And vines that grow through the windows, always touching us."

Emma took Jude’s hand. "Let’s begin today."

And so they did.

They spent the next hours clearing space, moving stones, gathering leaves and vines and bark. Their bodies moved with joy, with purpose. Naked or half-wrapped in cloth, they sang while they worked. They kissed when they passed one another. They shared touches as easily as water.

Jude worked with Lucy at his side, both of them sweaty and glowing, stealing kisses between stacking stones and weaving rope. When their hands met on the same root bundle, Lucy didn’t pull away. She climbed into his arms, legs wrapped around him, and kissed him until they both forgot what they’d been doing.

"I want you again," she whispered, biting his lip.

He pushed her against the half-finished frame of a wall, tugged her wrap aside, and slid inside her with a low groan. She gasped and laughed and held tight to the frame as he moved deep and slow. Her eyes never left his.