Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women
Chapter 1535

Chapter 1535: Chapter 1535

Zoey moved to his side and touched the stone.

Another flare.

Then Stella.

Then Grace.

Each time, the light grew brighter. Stronger.

When Lucy touched it, the forest itself shook.

And when Rose placed her hand beside Jude’s, the light went nova.

A wave of golden heat rushed outward. Trees bent. Flowers bloomed in seconds. The air itself seemed to sing.

The island had accepted them.

The ritual was complete.

But something else had begun.

From the far side of the clearing came a voice - not one they knew, but one they understood.

It was female.

Soft. Melodic.

"You have opened the door."

They turned.

From the trees stepped a woman. Her skin was the color of deep earth. Her hair was braided with living vines and petals. Her eyes shimmered with starlight. She was naked, but her presence clothed her in awe. Around her, the forest bowed.

She walked to the platform and looked at them all with affection. "I am Alara," she said. "The first who chose."

Jude’s throat tightened. "You were in the visions."

"I was," she said, touching the heartstone. "This is my gift. And now it is yours."

Emma took a shaky step forward. "What does that mean?"

Alara smiled. "It means you are no longer visitors. You are no longer searching. You are now part of the island’s breath. Its rhythm. Its body."

"Are we trapped?" Lucy asked.

"No," Alara said. "You are free. But the question now is - where would you go?"

The others looked at each other. There was no answer.

Rose stepped forward. "What do we do?"

"You live," Alara whispered. "You love. You continue. And if your hearts remain open, you will see more than anyone before you."

She stepped to Jude and pressed her fingers to his chest.

The glow in him flared again.

"You are the root. The seed. The pulse," she said.

And then she kissed him.

It wasn’t lust. It wasn’t even desire.

It was creation.

A moment of total stillness, of understanding so deep it made his eyes burn.

And when she pulled away, Alara whispered, "You will lead them."

She turned to the forest and walked back into it. The vines closed behind her.

And then the sky broke open.

Above them, golden clouds swirled into forms - dancing figures, flowering vines, animals that shimmered and faded.

The island was alive.

And it was dreaming through them.

Jude turned to his lovers.

Rose smiled.

Lucy stepped into his arms.

Sophie pressed close to his side.

The rest joined them, forming a circle again.

And as night fell, they danced beneath the sky’s golden dream, naked, wild, whole.

And the island sang back.

Jude awoke to the sound of waves crashing softly in the distance, the ocean’s rhythm blending with the breath of the forest. The ground beneath him was no longer just earth - it pulsed faintly, like a heartbeat, like something immense and ancient had begun to stir beneath the soil. Around him, the others slept in tangled serenity, bodies draped across moss and each other, the remnants of golden light still shimmering faintly on their skin. He rose without disturbing Lucy’s sleeping form curled against his chest, her fingers loosely clenched around a small sprig of glowing moss. Even in sleep, she clung to the island now.

He stepped away quietly, bare feet sinking into the soft ground, and moved toward the trees. Dawn had only just begun to paint the canopy in amber and rose. The island felt awake. Not just alive - but aware . It watched him now. Not with menace, but with longing. Expectation. It knew he had touched the heartstone. That he had changed.

He wandered until the forest thinned and the sea stretched before him in dazzling brilliance. The cliff where Rose had first fallen stood proud and wild to his left. But this time, there was no fear. Only memory. Only her.

And then, she was there.

Not in silence, not in shadow - but walking boldly through the tall grasses, her wrap of palm fronds brushing against her thighs, her hair loose and kissed by salt wind.

Rose.

She smiled when she saw him, her lips curved like a secret. "You woke before the others."

"I needed to breathe," he said softly. "Away from the pull."

"You’re part of the pull now," she said, stepping close. "You’ve always been."

He didn’t back away when she reached for him. Her fingers trailed along his jaw, down his neck, over the curve of his chest, slow and reverent.

"You carry it now, Jude. The heartbeat. The root. The others feel it too, but they still look to you."

He touched her waist, the soft dip of her hip, her skin warm from the rising sun. "I don’t know what I’m supposed to be."

"You don’t have to be anything," she whispered. "Just feel."

And then she kissed him - different this time. Not urgent, not claiming. Gentle. Like a memory shared. Like she was asking him to remember who they had once been. Who they still were.

His hands found the small of her back, pulling her closer. The sea roared behind them, a witness to the way her breath hitched, to the way her body molded to his like it had always known how. The kiss deepened, her mouth parting for him as he sank into her warmth.

She pulled him down with her, grass bending beneath their bodies, the sky spinning as she straddled him. Her thighs pressed against his hips, her hands braced on his chest. Her wrap slipped from her shoulders, her bare skin glowing in the morning light.

"Rose," he breathed.

She leaned in, her lips brushing his ear. "I want to feel you remember me."

Their mouths met again, hungrier now. She ground against him, slow, controlled, the pressure teasing and electric. Jude’s hands roamed her back, her thighs, then gripped her hips, anchoring her to him. Her moan was low, almost musical, as she rolled her body over his in slow, coaxing rhythm.