Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women
Chapter 1522

Chapter 1522: Chapter 1522

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.

They worshipped him.

Four women - Lucy, Sophie, Emma, and Zoey - bared themselves to him, bared themselves to each other, touching and moaning and kissing without shame or hesitation. The island responded with pulses of heat, the ground warming beneath their skin, the light shifting through the leaves to dance over their bodies.

Rose watched.

Not with jealousy.

With pride.

Jude lost track of whose mouth was where, whose hands teased his thighs, whose voice cried out his name. Lucy rode him first, eyes wild, fingers digging into his chest. Then Sophie, slower, firmer, with whispered confessions in his ear. Emma bent him to her will with soft whimpers and relentless motion. Zoey was last, her movements fierce and claiming, her lips bruising his as they came together in a tide of shared release.

When it was over, they lay tangled in the grass, breathing hard, bodies glistening with sweat and joy and the shimmer of something more.

Rose knelt beside them and placed her hand on Jude’s chest.

"You’re one of us now," she said softly.

He didn’t protest.

He couldn’t.

He only nodded.

And the tree behind her pulsed once - deep, strong, like the beat of a new heart awakening beneath the island.

The pulse of the tree echoed through the earth beneath them, and Jude could feel it reverberate in his chest, as though his own heart had fallen into rhythm with something older, something vast. He lay still, the skin of his back warmed by the earth, his breath slowing in the hush that followed their joining. Around him, the air shimmered with the afterglow of something more than pleasure - something sacred.

Lucy curled into his side, her skin damp, her breath still trembling. Her fingers traced idle patterns over his chest, but her eyes were locked on the tree, wide and dark, reflecting the golden pulse that throbbed once again through the clearing. Beside her, Emma lay on her back with her arm over her eyes, lips parted in a quiet smile that spoke of surrender. Sophie lay the other way, propped on one elbow, watching Jude like she was seeing something different for the first time.

"It’s like we’ve stepped through something," she whispered.

"You have," Rose said, her voice softer now, reverent.

Jude turned his head slowly, meeting her gaze. She wasn’t glowing anymore. She didn’t need to. The power she carried had sunk into every inch of the space around her, infused into the grass, the air, the very sweat on their skin. She knelt with her legs folded beneath her, her body bare and unashamed, every inch of her radiant with stillness. Behind her, the others stood in quiet circles, watching, humming under their breath as the melody changed again - subtle, slower, more intimate now.

Jude sat up, pulling Lucy with him. She didn’t resist. Neither did Sophie or Emma. They moved together as if their bodies were synchronized now, attuned not just to each other but to the strange rhythm of the island.

"Was that the ritual?" he asked.

Rose smiled. "No. That was the invitation."

"What happens now?"

"You rest. You remember. And then... you begin."

He looked at her, then around at the others - Layla, Grace, Natalie, Susan, Scarlet, Zoey, all of them changed, humming, glowing faintly like the tree behind them. And then he looked at Lucy again. Her smile was soft. She leaned forward and kissed him gently, nothing like before. No urgency. Just presence.

"I feel it," she murmured. "In my blood. In my breath."

Sophie nodded. "It’s like... I was scared of it before, but now? I just want to know more."

Emma curled up against him. "I don’t want to go back. Whatever that even means anymore."

Jude took a deep breath. The air felt different now - cleaner, warmer, filled with something he couldn’t name. Whatever happened in that clearing had shifted something inside him. Not just lust. Not just emotion. Something elemental.

"Then we stay," he said.

Rose stood. "There’s more to show you."

He nodded and rose to his feet, helping Lucy up, then Sophie, then Emma. The other women parted to let them through, and the song began to change again - building slowly, like the rise of wind before a storm. They walked toward the tree, the dark heart of the island, and its roots opened for them.

Not metaphorically.

Physically.

The bark split downward with a soft groan, revealing a passage into darkness. Warm light pulsed from within, amber and golden, illuminating stone walls wrapped in ivy and glowing fungi. Jude hesitated at the threshold, but Rose took his hand.

"No fear," she said gently. "Only choice."

He stepped inside.

The others followed.

The tunnel was narrow but not oppressive. The warmth came not from the light but from the air itself - it hugged the skin like a lover, kissed the back of Jude’s neck, made Emma sigh behind him. They walked in silence for minutes or hours, time untethered, until the tunnel opened into a chamber.

It was round, vast, alive.

The roots of the tree spiraled into the ceiling above them, and at the center of the room was a pool. The water glowed gold, still and perfect, ringed by stone ledges like natural benches. Steam rose faintly from the surface. Flowers grew along the walls - violet, crimson, ivory - and the scent of them intoxicated.

"This is the womb," Rose said. "Where the seed of change takes root."

They all stood in awe.

Grace approached the edge of the pool, knelt, and touched the surface. The ripples moved outward, and with them came visions - flashes of herself in another time, another form, dancing naked in the rain, covered in ash and petals.