Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women
Chapter 1527

Chapter 1527: Chapter 1527

Jude wasn’t sure how long they lay there - entwined, breath mingled, skin cooling under the hush of the cavern - but he knew something had shifted. Not just within him. Within all of them. The moment had become more than flesh, more than heat and hunger. It was a rite. A merging. And the island had accepted it.

He opened his eyes to find Sophie watching him. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips still parted, and yet her gaze was sharp again. Softer, yes - but her fire hadn’t vanished. She reached out, brushing her knuckles along his jaw.

"You’re still you," she whispered.

He turned toward her, catching her hand, kissing her palm. "So are you."

Lucy stirred beside him, her body stretched languid and satisfied, but her brows furrowed in a sleepy frown. "Something’s different, though. I can feel it in my chest."

Rose sat up slowly, her silhouette haloed by the dim tree-glow. She looked like a goddess reborn - hair loose, lips swollen, gold eyes dimmed slightly but no less deep. "Because we’re connected now. The tree sealed it."

Emma rolled to her side, propping herself up on her elbow. "What does that mean? Connected how?"

Rose ran her hand over the moss as if smoothing sheets. "Through the island. Through each other. It doesn’t control us. We’re just... part of it now. And that means we’ll start to feel things together."

Sophie shifted. "Like thoughts?"

"Not thoughts," Rose said gently. "Feelings. Impulses. Needs. You might wake up hungry and someone else will already be cooking your favorite food. You’ll ache and someone across the forest will gasp like it’s their own."

Lucy’s eyes widened. "That’s what I felt last night." She looked at Jude. "That pull. That ache in my belly. That wasn’t mine alone."

He swallowed, understanding settling like warm fog in his chest. "I dreamed of you. That pull... I thought it was just desire. But maybe it was the island pushing us together."

"Not pushing," Rose said, standing. "Guiding."

She stepped into the center of the pool again, her body bathed in the amber shimmer. The others slowly followed, one by one, drawn by something invisible, until they were standing again in a circle around the tree.

Grace emerged from the tunnel like a vision, barefoot and radiant in the same palm-frond wrap, her braid tied with black feathers. Her smile was soft. "I felt it," she said. "From the camp. I couldn’t stay away."

Zoey came next, face unreadable but body relaxed, a strange calm around her like she’d accepted the new rhythm. Then Susan. Then Layla. All drawn by the hum, by the bond.

Soon, all twelve wives stood around Jude in the glowing chamber, the pool at their feet, the tree behind them, and the air thick with anticipation.

Sophie stepped toward Rose, still wary but curious. "And what now?"

Rose held out her hand. "Now we decide together. We don’t hide. We don’t run. We let the island guide us - and we protect each other, no matter what."

Zoey folded her arms, gaze sharp. "And if the island changes again? What if this connection grows into something... darker?"

Jude met her eyes. "Then we face it together."

The wives nodded one by one, and as they joined hands in the golden circle, the tree pulsed again. Slower now. Like a heart satisfied.

Jude felt the hum settle inside him. Not invasive. Not demanding. Just there.

And then, without meaning to, he thought of Rose.

And she turned to look at him, smiling faintly.

"I heard that," she said.

Lucy laughed, soft and breathy. "Oh gods, it’s starting."

Emma rolled her eyes, grinning. "Great. A telepathic sex cult."

Sophie smacked her arm. "Don’t call it that."

"I mean, it’s accurate."

Jude chuckled, but then sobered, stepping back from the tree. "We should go back. The others need food. Rest. This... it’s a new Chapter. But we’re still ourselves. Still human."

Rose nodded. "Of course."

They filed out slowly, dressed again in whatever they could gather, and returned to the treehouse clearing in a hush of understanding. No one spoke loudly. No one needed to. The connection was there now, just beneath the surface of every look, every touch, every breath.

At sunset, Jude stood at the fire while Lucy stirred a pot of wild stew. Sophie sat nearby, sharpening a blade. Emma leaned against a post, eyes closed, humming softly. The same song. The hum.

Rose walked up beside Jude, pressing her shoulder to his. "We should prepare."

"For what?" he asked.

"For when the island asks for more."

He turned to her. "Do you think it ever stops asking?"

She smiled. "Would you want it to?"

He looked around at his wives, at the flicker of firelight in their eyes, the way the shadows played against their skin, and he knew his answer.

"No," he said. "Not if it means I keep all of you."

Rose leaned in, brushing her lips against his. "Then we keep dancing."

And somewhere, deep in the trees, the island began to hum again.

A breeze stirred through the clearing as night fell, soft and laden with the scent of moss and something floral - something that hadn’t bloomed yesterday. Jude stood motionless for a moment, feeling it move over his skin like a whisper, like fingertips trailing down his arms. The island wasn’t just humming anymore. It was breathing. Calling. Responding.

Sophie rose from her seat, her sharp features taut with alertness. "That’s new," she said quietly.

Emma turned her head. "You feel it too?"

"Of course I do." Sophie looked at Jude. "So do you."

He nodded. He felt more than the wind - he felt warmth rising in his chest like the start of a fever. Not sickness, but longing. Desire. And it wasn’t just his. It was all around them, seeping from the ground, the trees, the women beside him.

Lucy stepped into his arms without a word. She fit perfectly, her body molding to his like a long-lost melody returning to the first verse.