Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women
Chapter 1466

Chapter 1466: Chapter 1466

They didn’t dream of fire.

They dreamed of roots.

Not crawling, not strangling - but expanding. Blooming. A web of light beneath the island that pulsed in rhythm with their breaths, their hearts, their bodies.

Each of them saw the same vision in different ways: Rose walking barefoot on glowing soil, Lucy kissing Jude beneath a sky of burning stars, Zoey leading the others through a forest of mirrored trees that reflected their past and future at once. And at the center of it all, Jude - naked, radiant, standing in a ring of stone with golden vines winding up his legs, his chest open like a book.

They awoke as one.

Not with panic.

With purpose.

Lucy stirred first, her body curled tightly against Jude’s, her breath still hot against his chest. "It’s calling again," she murmured, her hand tracing lazy circles along his side. "The mountain."

Sophie blinked slowly, lifting her head. "It’s louder now."

The others roused around them, stretching like cats after a night of pleasure. The treehouse smelled of sex and sunlight, sweat and something floral - pollen, maybe, or the perfume of whatever the heart-tree had laced into their skin. They didn’t needed blankets. Their bodies had been enough.

Rose sat up last, her dark hair tangled like a halo, her lips parted in a lazy smile. "It’s time."

Jude looked between them all, still half-lost in the afterglow. "Do we even know what’s there?"

"No," Zoey said, tying her wrap loosely around her hips, "but it’s ours. "

They dressed in silence, helping one another fasten vines and wrap cloth. None of them wanted to return to their old clothes. The new ones - grown, gifted, or simply formed from the island’s blessing - felt like second skin now. When Jude slipped on the leather wrap that Rose tied around his waist, her hands lingered just long enough for his cock to twitch at the memory of her riding him beneath the roots. She smirked knowingly, but said nothing.

They set out just after sunrise.

The forest welcomed them. Trees leaned slightly, as if parting in respect. Animals didn’t scatter, but watched. The hum was deeper now, more resonant. Each footstep echoed faintly through the moss, and it wasn’t long before the incline began. The path to the mountain was steep and winding, but their bodies were no longer fatigued by hunger or thirst. The tree had fed them something more lasting.

At the halfway point, they paused at a ridge where the canopy broke open. The sea stretched beyond the horizon, vast and glittering, and the land below them looked smaller - like something they’d outgrown. Sophie wrapped an arm around Jude’s waist. "It used to feel endless."

"It still is," he said, "just in a different direction now."

At the summit, they found the stone circle.

Not a ruin.

Not an altar.

A mirror.

It reflected the sky perfectly, though it was stone. No water, no glass - just flat black obsidian shot through with gold veins. When they stepped near, it shimmered with their faces, but not as they were - as they could be. Glowing eyes, golden skin, ethereal bodies. Creatures of divine passion and power. Beings made not of blood and bone, but of purpose and pleasure.

Natalie gasped. "We look like them."

Stella crouched near the edge, touching the surface. "Not like them. Like us, finally unveiled."

"Then this is what the island’s made us into," Jude said, kneeling beside her. "Or what we always were."

Susan knelt behind him, wrapping her arms around his neck. "This is what we’re becoming."

Emma stepped to the center. The mirror rippled beneath her like heat.

She looked down, mesmerized. "It knows us."

Then it pulsed.

Not with sound.

With heat.

It sent a tremor through the stone, through the moss, through them. Jude fell forward onto his hands as it surged up through his spine - pleasure, raw and urgent, an orgasmic warmth that started at the base of his spine and shot upward like lightning. Around him, the women moaned in unison, their bodies arched, mouths open, skin shining.

Clothes fell away.

Breath turned to gasps.

The mountain didn’t demand it.

It invited it.

And they couldn’t resist.

Rose was the first to crawl across the mirror, her fingers trailing light with every touch. She pulled Jude toward her, her mouth hot against his, her thighs already slick as she wrapped them around his hips. He entered her with a groan, her body fitting to his like it had been made for this exact moment. Around them, the wives joined - tangled bodies in every direction, kisses layered upon moans, tongues teasing, fingers exploring.

It wasn’t frenzy.

It was worship.

They touched one another without shame. Emma kissing Natalie as they both rode Jude’s thighs; Stella bent over with Grace kneeling behind her, hands and mouth devoted to every curve; Zoey and Susan moaning into each other’s mouths while grinding on each other’s thighs. And always, Jude at the center, claimed again and again, fucked into and around and over by every one of them.

Lucy mounted him last, her movements slow, deliberate, her mouth brushing his as she said, "I want you to finish in all of us again."

And he did.

Each time was more intense than the last. His seed spilled into Rose, then Emma, then Grace, and on, until his body shuddered so violently with the final orgasm in Lucy that the mirror beneath them cracked - but did not break.

Instead, the cracks glowed gold.

They had awakened something.

The tremor that followed wasn’t from them.

It came from beneath.

The stone circle pulsed again, lifting them slightly off the ground as if their union had broken a seal. A low tone rang through the air - not the hum from before, but a note that echoed through the mountain, through their bones, through time.

The sky darkened briefly.

The wind held still.

And then -

From the center of the circle rose a shape.

Not a creature.

Not a person.

A memory made real.