Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women
Chapter 1544

Chapter 1544: Chapter 1544

He pressed both palms against it.

And in the next moment, the entire clearing lit up.

The spiral exploded outward - not destructively, but expansively. It wove through each of them, through their veins, through their sex, their souls. It lifted them off the ground - not just floating, but ascending, like stars being reborn.

And then it happened.

They saw the bridge.

It formed above them - a silver thread stretching from the island’s heart, through the stars, through the veil of the golden sky, into the fabric of Earth’s world. But it wasn’t physical. It was breath. Energy. An invitation.

And they were the messengers.

The vision faded slowly, depositing them gently back onto the mossy clearing.

Jude collapsed to his knees.

The women surrounded him, holding, touching, grounding him.

He looked up, eyes wide. "We’re meant to carry it back."

Rose pressed her forehead to his. "Together."

The voices returned one last time, like a final blessing.

"You will forget, and you will remember. You will bleed, and you will bloom. But the rhythm will remain. In you. Between you. Around you."

And then the light faded.

The slab dimmed.

The spiral rose back into the sky.

And they knew.

The choice was theirs.

Jude stood slowly, eyes locked with each of his wives. "We can return. Not just as who we were... but as what we’ve become."

Lucy nodded. "And we’ll never be apart again."

They kissed him one by one.

Stella with fierce tenderness.

Susan with trembling warmth.

Grace with a playful flick of tongue and fingers in his hair.

Natalie whispering promises against his lips.

Emma with a long, desperate press of bodies and memory.

Zoey with laughter and fire and an edge of something eternal.

Sophie took the longest, her kiss tasting like goodbye and beginning in the same breath.

And then Rose. She held his face and stared into his eyes.

"No matter where we go," she whispered, "we are still the island."

Jude kissed her with everything he had.

And when they broke apart, the bridge above them shimmered again - waiting.

Together, naked and whole, they stepped into the light.

Not as lovers.

Not just as dreamers.

But as gods of breath, of rhythm, of union.

And the world waited.

They emerged in silence, not crashing into the world but bleeding gently into it, like dusk melting into dawn. The light around them faded from gold to silver to a soft, soft gray - the gray of early morning before the first bird sings, the moment the world still holds its breath. The bridge dissolved behind them, leaving no door, no mark, only memory. They stood not on a mossy floor of dreams but a rooftop - flat, cold concrete underfoot, the chill real and biting.

Jude inhaled.

The city pulsed beneath them.

Not the song of the island. This was harsher. Sharper. Steel and engines. Light without warmth. Towers upon towers piercing the sky, streets grumbling with restless motion, air tinged with smoke and want.

He turned slowly. His wives were with him. All of them. Naked, shining, radiant with the golden glow that had not dulled in this world but now pulsed in defiance of it. Rose stood tallest, wind catching her hair. Lucy’s eyes sparkled with awe, her hand curling tighter around Jude’s. Sophie scanned the skyline with a wary tension in her shoulders. Zoey whistled low, impressed. "So this is what we left behind."

Grace took a shaky breath. "It’s uglier than I remember."

Natalie wrapped an arm around her. "But still alive."

Susan stepped forward to the edge of the roof, peering down at the world they once called home. Cars crept below like ants. Billboards flickered with promises. Neon hummed. She whispered, "They don’t see us."

"They’re not ready," Stella said. "But some are."

Emma turned toward Jude. "So what now?"

He looked at the skyline. And then at them - all twelve of them. His circle. His heart.

"We walk."

They descended the fire escape in silence, bare feet against rusted metal, the sun rising slowly behind them, bleeding pale gold into the city’s gray. When they reached the street, no one noticed them. Not truly. People glanced, blinked, looked again - and forgot. It was as if the world couldn’t hold them yet. Not fully. They passed through unnoticed, twelve goddesses and their golden flame, a single heartbeat wrapped in skin and breath and light.

They found a park - small, fenced, littered with yesterday’s trash and the scent of old memories. Children’s laughter echoed faintly in the plastic bones of a rusted slide. The trees here didn’t breathe like the ones on the island. They creaked. Tired. But still alive. Still willing.

Lucy knelt at the base of one and pressed her palm to the bark.

Golden light spilled out.

Soft. Subtle. Just enough.

The tree sighed. A leaf fell - not dead, but fresh, glowing briefly before darkening again.

Emma smiled. "We can touch them."

Sophie’s voice was quiet. "We can change them."

"But not all at once," Rose added. "This world doesn’t work like that. Not yet."

"Then we seed," Jude said.

He took off walking, and they followed him, barefoot through streets, leaving no footprints but trailing a pulse behind them that shifted things. Flowers bloomed from sidewalk cracks. Streetlights flickered with golden light. People stopped arguing. Laughter sparked where there had been silence.

One man paused when he passed Jude, blinking at him. "Do I know you?"

Jude smiled gently. "Not yet."

The man hesitated, then walked on, but slower. Thoughtful.

They wandered for hours.

Lucy kissed a barista who forgot what she was afraid of.

Susan danced in a public fountain until children joined her.

Zoey left handprints of gold across a street artist’s canvas.

Sophie stood in a church and breathed once, and the candles lit themselves.

Stella sat in a train station, whispering to an old woman who hadn’t spoken in days, and when she left, the woman wept softly - not with grief, but with something returned.