Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women
Chapter 1503

Chapter 1503: Chapter 1503

There was nothing to say.

Only the warmth of bodies and the slow, rhythmic pulse of the forest that seemed to echo with satisfaction.

It was Grace who stirred first, propping herself up on an elbow and gazing around at the others with a small, dreamy smile. "Is it always going to feel like that?"

Sophie turned her head, lips still parted. "It felt like time stopped."

"It did," Rose said softly, her voice thick with the afterglow. "This place isn’t part of the island anymore. It’s outside of everything. A sanctuary."

Zoey rolled onto her side, brushing hair from her face. "Then how do we get back?"

"We don’t," Scarlet said, eyes half-lidded. "Not yet."

Layla stretched like a cat, her body arching with grace. "I don’t think we’re supposed to. Not until we’re... finished."

"Finished what?" Natalie murmured from where she lay with her head resting on Stella’s stomach.

Jude sat up slowly, the cool air brushing over his bare skin, still damp with the scent of sweat, sex, and moss. He looked toward the archway behind them - still glowing faintly, though softer now. Like a heartbeat at rest. "We were shown something. Or given something."

"We gave," Lucy corrected gently, nuzzling into his side. "All of us. To each other."

"But it wasn’t just about pleasure," Jude said. "It was a ritual."

Rose nodded. "It was the beginning."

Of what, no one answered. Not with words.

They could all feel it.

Something fundamental had shifted. Not just between them - but within the island. The vines that had once pulsed with hunger now hung lazily above them, their tips swaying like they were drowsing. The ground no longer trembled beneath their feet. Even the strange flowers growing along the temple’s walls had folded inward, as though satisfied.

Stella rose slowly, standing in the center of the moss-bed and looking upward. "It’s darker now."

The sky had indeed dimmed, though no stars had yet appeared. Just a thick, velvety purple that made the edges of the trees blur into shadow. A hush fell over the clearing again, and this time it was filled with the gentle rustle of bodies stirring and the soft slap of skin against skin as they stretched and reached for one another again, drawn by instinct more than desire.

Jude looked at each of them, saw the same glow still flickering in their eyes - not possession, not transformation, but something elemental. Wild. Sacred.

Emma pushed herself upright, her gaze drifting toward the edge of the grove. "Something’s watching us."

No one panicked. There was no fear anymore.

Just curiosity.

Sophie stood, brushing her thighs absently as she turned toward the darkness. "It’s always been watching."

"Not it," Rose said, rising beside her. "Them."

From the shadows, figures emerged - not human, not quite. Shapes made of vines and bark and flowing silk. Feminine. Ancient. Their faces were hidden behind veils of petals and long, trailing moss, but they shimmered with the same soft light that now pulsed through the women’s skin.

They did not speak.

They did not move with threat.

They simply approached, silent and sure, like mothers welcoming their daughters home.

One by one, the wives stood, bare and unafraid, walking toward the figures without hesitation. Jude stood too, his breath caught somewhere between awe and apprehension, but he didn’t move. He felt rooted - anchored to this place, to what had just passed, to the ritual they had unknowingly performed.

The figures circled the group, moving like wind around stone. Their hands reached out - not touching, not taking - but blessing . And as each woman was approached, she bowed her head slightly and inhaled sharply, as though something unseen had just moved through her.

When they came to Jude, the tallest among them stepped forward. Her eyes, barely visible through the floral veil, glowed gold - like Rose’s had, once.

She cupped her hands, palms up.

Jude stepped forward.

And placed his hands in hers.

The instant their skin met, the forest sang again.

A single note, high and aching, rang out from the trees, and Jude felt it shoot through his spine. Behind him, his wives gasped - some in ecstasy, others in pain, but none pulled away.

And then the figures vanished.

Gone, like mist burned off by the sun.

Jude stumbled backward, caught by Lucy’s hands. "What was that?"

Rose stepped forward, her skin shimmering with an internal light. "They marked us."

"For what?" Zoey asked, breathless.

"For what comes next," Rose said.

The moss bed behind them had changed. Where they had laid moments before, golden etchings had appeared - symbols too ancient to recognize, but beautiful and hypnotic. They pulsed with life, warm to the touch, and every time one of the women stepped near, it flared brighter.

Grace reached down to touch one. "It’s reacting to us."

"They’re alive," Natalie whispered.

Jude looked around at all of them, still naked, still glowing. "We’re not done."

"No," Rose said. "We’ve only just begun."

They spent the night there, among the vines and warmth. There was more love made - soft and slow, raw and honest. It wasn’t the frantic heat of earlier but something deeper. A reaffirmation. A continuation. Every moan echoed with reverence, every touch a promise.

At dawn, they rose together.

The arch had dimmed completely, the runes now faint scars in the stone. It would not take them back - not yet. But the forest had opened in a new direction. A narrow path lined with silver grass and crimson blooms stretched ahead.

Sophie stepped forward, her voice strong. "Let’s follow it."

Jude nodded, taking her hand.

The others joined them.

One by one.

Together.

Not just lovers.

Not just survivors.

Something more.

And as they vanished into the trees, the forest whispered behind them.

The song was far from over.

The silver-grass path wound deeper into a part of the island they had never seen, the air thicker, warmer, heady with the scent of wild orchids and wet stone. The light was strange here - neither day nor night, a perpetual twilight that shimmered through the foliage like gold dust caught in a dream.