Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women
Chapter 1517

Chapter 1517: Chapter 1517

Emma looked from Sophie to Zoey, to Stella and Grace, now standing in matching wraps that shimmered with dew. "You all keep saying that. That it’s a choice. But what if it’s not?" She looked at Jude. "What if we’re just being shaped into what this place wants us to be?"

Jude took a slow breath. "Then we shape it back. We change it with love, not fear."

She stepped closer to him, her voice dropping. "Don’t say love unless you mean it."

He touched her cheek. "I mean it. Every time I say it."

She held his gaze, trembling. Then she let him kiss her. It was soft, slow, and when she pressed herself into him, he felt her heart racing. But she didn’t let it go further. Not yet. She stepped back, breathing hard.

"I’ll watch for now," she said. "I’m not ready."

"That’s your choice," Sophie said gently. "And we’ll protect it."

From behind them, Grace’s voice rose.

"I heard the song again," she said, staring into the trees. "It’s faint, like it’s pulling from a distance. But it’s getting clearer."

Jude turned. "Which direction?"

Stella pointed, her fingers delicate. "North. Toward the ridge."

They dressed quickly - not fully, just enough to walk. Wraps, sashes, fingers entwined. They moved as one now, even Emma, though she walked behind, arms crossed tight to her chest. Jude led, Sophie beside him, Zoey at his back. They moved through the trees without fear, their footsteps light, their eyes drawn upward toward the growing pulse in the canopy.

It wasn’t just sound anymore.

It was light.

Soft golden wisps weaving through the branches, flickering like flameflies, leading them onward. The path narrowed, the trees crowded closer, and then they stepped into a clearing that hadn’t been there before.

In the center, a pond. Perfectly round. Crystal-clear. And floating in the center - something glowing.

A stone.

No bigger than Jude’s palm. White with gold veins, humming so softly it could be mistaken for silence.

Rose stood at the far edge of the pond.

She said nothing, only watched them approach. Her body was wrapped in woven silk and vine, her eyes brighter than they’d ever seen. But her smile was gentle now. No eerie tilt. No possession.

Just peace.

"I brought it here," she said at last. "So you could see it. This is the core."

Jude stepped closer. "Of the island?"

"Of everything." She looked at the stone. "It sings when it feels love. Real love. That’s how we followed the song. That’s how it found us."

Sophie tilted her head. "It’s alive?"

"In a way." Rose looked at her. "It’s what made the island grow. What made us dream. What called us together."

Emma stepped forward. "What does it want from us?"

"Nothing," Rose said. "It offers. We decide."

Stella approached the water’s edge, knelt, and touched the surface. Ripples fanned outward, and the light above shimmered. Then she whispered, "Let us share it."

She turned back to the group, eyes wide.

"It wants a bond," she said. "All of us."

Lucy gasped. "Like a ritual?"

Zoey grinned. "Like a ceremony."

Natalie’s cheeks flushed. "Then we make it beautiful."

And Grace stepped forward, already untying her wrap. "Together."

They undressed there in the clearing, not rushed, not forced. Jude stood still, his breath caught, as each of them came to him one by one, kissing him gently - on the lips, on the chest, on the pulse of his throat. Each touch was a vow. Each caress was a promise.

They lay together in the grass, in a ring around the water, the light from the stone reflecting across their skin like sacred fire.

Zoey pulled him down first, sliding him into her once more with a gasp of welcome. Then Sophie pressed against his back, her lips on his spine. Lucy curled beside them, stroking his face as he moved. Then Grace, then Natalie, each woman taking him, not in turn but in rhythm, like music, like breath.

The pond glowed brighter with each climax, each kiss, each moan.

Jude didn’t know where he ended and they began. His body was coated in them - his skin marked with sweat and love and salt. They moved around him like waves, always returning. His hands in Stella’s hair, his mouth on Emma’s breast, his fingers deep inside Rose while she trembled beneath him and whispered his name like a hymn.

The climax wasn’t just physical.

It was spiritual.

As Zoey cried out again, as Lucy clutched him tight and gasped his name, the stone pulsed and shattered into light. A brilliant burst that washed over them, into them, through them. The pond glowed. The trees glowed. The island glowed.

And then everything was still.

They lay in the moss, tangled and warm, breathless and whole. Jude blinked up at the sky and saw stars, even though it was midday. Emma curled beside him, finally relaxed. Even she smiled now, touching his chest like she was tracing the center of everything.

"We are the song," Rose whispered. "We always were."

And for once, there was nothing more to say.

The wind stirred softly above them, weaving through the trees like fingers through hair, brushing against bare skin and stirring the last golden fragments of the shattered stone that had risen and vanished into the air. Jude’s chest rose and fell slowly, tangled between Emma and Lucy, his arm stretched across Sophie’s waist while Zoey lay curled against his legs like a satisfied cat. The clearing was warm despite the hour - bathed in an unseen heat that pulsed from the ground itself, deeper than sun or fire.

No one spoke for a long time. There was nothing to say, nothing that hadn’t already been carved into the breathless silence they shared. Every kiss, every moan, every whispered name had filled something ancient. They hadn’t just touched each other - they’d touched the island, the pulse beneath it, the song that hummed in every root and stone.