Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women
Chapter 1521

Chapter 1521: Chapter 1521

They moved together beside the water, limbs tangling in slow rhythm, skin pressed to skin beneath the stars. The ground was soft beneath them, cool and pulsing with warmth where their bodies met. Stella moaned his name, over and over, breathless and reverent, as though speaking him into the island’s memory.

When they came, it was quiet - just a gasp, a shiver, a pause in the hum of everything.

She rested on his chest afterward, fingers playing idly with his hair, eyes distant.

"Do you think we’re still human?" she asked after a long time.

He looked up at the sky, then down at her. "I don’t know."

Her smile was soft. "Maybe it doesn’t matter anymore."

They returned before sunrise. The others were waking, stretching, blinking sleep from their eyes. Lucy smiled sleepily at him as he approached, holding her arms out and drawing him back into their warmth. The nest of women opened to receive him again, wordlessly.

But as the sun crested over the horizon, the air shifted.

The shimmer changed.

It wasn’t just humming now.

It was singing.

The song rose slowly, at first no more than a breath in the trees, a whisper along the bark. But then it deepened, taking form - not words, not lyrics, but a melody that lived in the bones. Jude felt it like a heartbeat not his own, thrumming through the ground and up into his spine. Around him, the women stirred with sudden clarity, their eyes wide, their bodies alert.

Lucy sat up first, her eyes fixed on the trees. Her pupils dilated as the sound intensified. Emma rubbed sleep from her eyes and froze mid-motion, lips parting in silent awe. Sophie pushed up onto her elbows, her skin goosefleshed as if the melody had reached inside her chest and curled its fingers around her heart.

"It’s stronger," Sophie whispered. "It’s calling."

Zoey stood, already dressed, already armed - but her blade was sheathed, forgotten at her hip. She walked toward the edge of the clearing with a slow, reverent grace, eyes unfocused, her lips moving soundlessly.

Jude followed her, careful not to disturb the others too soon. Stella fell in behind him, barefoot, her moss-draped body gleaming faintly with dew. They moved like drawn magnets, pulled by something they didn’t understand, something ancient and deep and irresistible.

Through the trees, past the glowing moss, over root and stone, the path led them to the heart of the island - a clearing none of them had seen before, encircled by trees older than time, their trunks carved with runes that pulsed in rhythm with the song. In the center stood the black tree, larger now, branches outstretched, bark shimmering with wet sheen. At its base stood Rose.

She was radiant.

Her hair was unbound, cascading in waves around her bare shoulders, adorned only with woven vines and clusters of luminous petals that clung to her skin like jewelry. Her eyes were gold, bright and clear, and her mouth curved in a smile that held no malice, only welcome.

Behind her, the others stood - Grace, Layla, Susan, Scarlet, and Natalie - each in a state of serene undress, draped in ritual cloths of feather and leaf, each glowing faintly from within as if lit by the island itself.

"Welcome," Rose said, her voice not louder than the melody but interwoven with it. "You’ve come to the beginning."

Jude stepped forward, unsure whether his feet obeyed his will or the rhythm in the air. "The beginning of what?"

Rose opened her arms. "Of us."

Lucy appeared beside him, eyes wide. "What is this place?"

"The first root," Rose answered. "Where the island touches the world. Where it speaks clearest."

Sophie moved closer, her arms folded, voice firm. "What happens here?"

Rose didn’t answer with words.

She sang.

Her voice folded into the song already in the air, not overpowering it but completing it, and in that moment the melody changed. It grew warmer, heavier, soaked with something intimate. Desire. Longing. Love. The very air thickened, scented with blossoms and heat, vibrating through their bodies like a lover’s touch.

The women around Rose began to move - not in unison, but in harmony. Hands brushed shoulders, fingers laced together, skin touched skin. It was a dance of invitation. No commands. No pressure. Only the offer of joining.

Jude stood frozen, overwhelmed. The music touched every part of him, every memory, every need. His pulse quickened. Emma stepped forward beside him, her breath coming faster, her hand reaching for his without realizing it.

Lucy didn’t move.

But her hand gripped his harder.

Rose stepped toward him, slowly, reverently, and stopped an arm’s length away.

"I loved you first," she said, voice low. "But love doesn’t divide. It grows."

Then she touched his cheek.

The moment her fingers met his skin, the world shifted again. Not visually, not audibly - but in sensation. The hum became pleasure, soft and throbbing, spreading from her touch through every inch of his flesh. His breath hitched. Rose leaned in, not to kiss, but to rest her forehead to his.

"Join us," she whispered.

Then she stepped back.

Layla moved forward next. She took Lucy’s hand. The contact was electric. Lucy gasped, but didn’t pull away. Layla leaned in and kissed her - soft and slow, nothing like the heat of before, but laced with something even deeper. When they parted, Lucy stared at her, stunned, and reached for Jude.

He caught her and kissed her hard, needing to anchor himself, needing to give her something real. Her mouth opened to him, hot and needy, and they melted into each other. Around them, the clearing spun. The music rose.

Then Sophie’s lips brushed his neck.

She hadn’t moved from where she stood, but now she was behind him, her fingers sliding up his spine, her breasts pressed to his back. Emma kissed his shoulder, and Jude groaned low in his throat, caught in a web of heat and sound and soul.

They pulled him down into the grass.