Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women
Chapter 1529

Chapter 1529: Chapter 1529

He tried to hold on to the rational part of himself, the voice that had been cautious, resistant. But it was quieter now, like it had taken a step back to let something else speak.

The island’s song had not faded.

It had simply gone inside them.

Rose stood slowly and extended a hand toward him. "There’s something we need to show you," she said.

Sophie lifted her head. "Now?"

Rose nodded. "It’s time."

Jude glanced down at the women still nestled around him, then looked back up at her. "All of us?"

"Just you," Rose said, then looked toward the trees. "And her."

From the shadows, Stella emerged.

She was dressed in the same wrap of feathers and fronds, but this time it shimmered faintly in the sunlight, as if dusted in dew and magic. Her eyes met Jude’s with that same serene confidence that had unnerved him once. Now it just called to him.

"Where are we going?" he asked, though he already knew the answer wouldn’t matter.

"Where the island began," Stella said.

They moved together in silence. Rose and Stella led, and Jude followed, barefoot, wearing nothing but the loose wrap of cloth Lucy had tossed over him in the early hours before sleep. It felt less like clothing and more like ritual - like he was wearing intention.

They walked deep into the forest, past familiar paths, past the river, past the waterfall where Rose had first changed. The trees thickened, the air grew richer, heavier. It smelled of honey and wet bark, of blooming things that had no name. Moss blanketed everything, and even the light filtering through the trees seemed green.

They reached a clearing where the earth sloped inward, forming a natural bowl. At its center stood another tree.

Not the black twisted thing from the cave.

This one was alive.

Tall. Wide. Pulsing. Its bark shimmered gold in the light. Its branches stretched like arms toward the sky. The roots were thick and spread wide, forming arches and dips like doorways and pathways around it. Flowers bloomed between the roots - red, white, violet - and the hum here was not faint. It was music. Full and warm, like the sound of heartbeats layered in harmony.

Jude stepped forward. "What is this?"

"The beginning," Rose whispered. "Of everything."

Stella circled behind him. "This is where it speaks the loudest."

Jude reached out a hand and touched the bark.

Heat rushed into him - not fire, not pain, but pleasure. Pure and deep. His knees nearly buckled. Images exploded behind his eyes: the twelve of them, their bodies entwined, lit by moonlight and starlight and fire; the tree pulsing between them like a living heart; the island breathing with them, loving with them, changing because of them.

He stumbled back, gasping.

Rose caught him. Her hands on his chest steadied him. "It’s not just the island anymore, Jude. It’s us."

"We’re becoming it," Stella said. "Or it’s becoming us. We’re not sure it matters."

Jude looked at them both, chest heaving. "And what now?"

Rose stepped closer. "Now you let it in."

Her fingers moved to his hips, slow, reverent. Stella knelt beside him, her lips brushing his stomach, her hands sliding up the insides of his thighs. Their touch wasn’t rushed. It was deliberate. Devotional.

They undressed him completely, and he didn’t resist. He couldn’t. He didn’t want to.

They kissed him, together - Rose on his lips, Stella on his chest, moving lower and lower until his breath turned into a tremble. The air was thick with heat. The hum grew louder, and it began to echo inside him.

Rose laid him down among the roots. Stella climbed over him first, her body fluid and warm. She sank down onto him with a gasp that sounded like song. Her fingers gripped his, her eyes locked with his. She moved with the pulse of the earth.

Jude cried out as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through him, amplified by the presence of the tree, by Rose’s mouth on his neck, her hands roaming every inch of him, guiding him deeper into Stella, deeper into the connection.

When Stella climaxed, it wasn’t a single moment - it was a crescendo, a rising harmony that echoed through the clearing. She shivered against him, then whispered, "Now her."

Rose took her place, straddling Jude with the same grace and power she always had, but now she was more - rooted, radiant. Her body fit against his like destiny. She moved with purpose, slow and deep, each thrust like a note in the song that surrounded them.

She leaned down, lips to his ear. "You were always the seed, Jude. Now you’re blooming."

The moment broke over him like a wave, his release tearing through him with such force he thought he might vanish entirely. But instead, he opened. Not his body. His spirit. The island rushed in - not as invasion, but invitation. He felt it: the trees, the water, the songs, the memory.

He didn’t black out.

He woke.

When it was over, Rose and Stella curled against him. The music softened to a purr. The tree pulsed gently, satisfied.

And Jude lay in the roots of something ancient, cradled by two of his wives, full of light and hunger and peace all at once.

When they returned to the others, they were waiting - naked, expectant, glowing.

Sophie met his gaze.

She saw everything in his eyes.

And she whispered, "You’re one of them now, aren’t you?"

Jude didn’t answer.

He simply reached for her hand.

Sophie’s fingers trembled in his grasp.

The clearing behind her had grown hushed, not with silence, but with something deeper - an unspoken anticipation that settled over the group like thick mist. Jude’s hand closed gently around hers, grounding, steady, and she didn’t pull away.

Her eyes searched his face, and what she saw there made her breath catch.

It was still him. Still the man who held her through restless nights, still the lover who whispered promises into her skin.