Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women
Chapter 1549

Chapter 1549: Chapter 1549

The petals thinned but never stopped. They became part of the air, like dust made of memory, of skin, of breath. People walked through it like it was holy smoke, brushing it from their faces only to have it sink into their palms, into their chests. The square glowed dimly now, not from light above, but from the people themselves. Hundreds of them - maybe more - gathered in clusters of warmth, touch, laughter, and silent awe. Some still knelt, overwhelmed. Some stood, trembling. Others danced without music, as if the rhythm had finally reached them from beneath the earth.

Jude stood quietly in the center, the moss beneath his feet thickening, softening, spreading like the roots were claiming this place, like the island itself was leaking into the city. Rose remained beside him, fingers laced with his, her smile unreadable but deep. Lucy walked a slow circle around them, her bare feet stirring petals as she passed through each group of glowing strangers. She touched some. Kissed others gently on the cheek or brow. Her eyes brimmed with something close to joy, but more profound - something sacred.

Elara moved behind her, watching closely, not mimicking but learning. Her body, still gleaming with fresh light, had changed since their union. She no longer looked like someone from this world. Her movements flowed. Her skin shimmered faintly. And her breath... it sang, softly, with every exhale.

Emma and Sophie stood together again, arms crossed but eyes wide. They watched the people, the couples, the clusters. Sophie leaned in close. "They won’t go back to how it was."

"No," Emma agreed. "And neither will we."

A child ran across the moss, laughing, naked, her skin golden from light. No one knew where she came from. She belonged to none of the people present. But no one questioned her. She ran past Zoey, who caught her briefly, twirled her once, and sent her on with a kiss to the forehead. "She’s a seed," Zoey murmured, watching her go. "Just like we were."

Grace stepped up to Jude and rested her head on his shoulder. "The city’s changing. The borders are thinner now. Do you feel it?"

He nodded. "The island is bleeding through."

"And the people?"

"They’re becoming part of it."

Susan approached with Natalie, the two of them holding hands. "What happens if someone fights it?" Susan asked softly.

"They’ll suffer," Rose said simply. "But the island won’t punish. It never does. It just waits."

"And if they hurt others?" Natalie added.

"They can’t," Lucy said from nearby. "Not here. Not in the light. It stops them."

And it was true.

A man stumbled into the square, shouting, something wild and angry etched across his face. His clothes were torn. His eyes burned with fear, not understanding. He lunged toward the crowd - but the moment he touched the edge of the moss, his body crumpled gently to the ground. Not violently. Not painfully. Just... stillness. As if he’d been put to sleep. A woman stepped forward and knelt beside him, stroking his cheek.

"He’s not dangerous," she whispered. "He’s just lost."

Jude watched. The petals dusted the man’s brow. His breathing slowed. And then, slowly, almost imperceptibly... his body began to glow.

Sophie exhaled. "So it protects itself."

"No," Emma said. "It protects everyone."

A bell rang from the distance - not from a church, but from deep underground. Subway bells. Echoing strangely. Reverberating up through the buildings and steel, like they’d been struck by something ancient and deep. The rhythm changed. The crowd shifted.

And Rose turned to Jude, a flush in her cheeks.

"It’s time again."

"For what?" he asked, breath already catching.

"For us," she whispered, "to anchor it."

He understood.

The light spreading needed tethering. It needed more than dreaming. It needed desire. Flesh. Ecstasy. The sacred ritual of union, again and again, until the roots held strong. Until the new world was rooted fully in the old.

Without needing to speak, the twelve came to him.

One by one.

Lucy, radiant with longing.

Zoey, with her wild, fierce grin.

Grace and Stella, hand in hand, shedding their soft dresses as they approached.

Susan, tentative and tender.

Natalie, eyes already dark with hunger.

Emma and Sophie - together this time, their fingers interlocked even as they moved toward him.

Scarlet and Layla, trailing golden ribbons they’d braided from street vines.

Rose, last, naked and brilliant, her body vibrating with energy that threatened to split the air.

And Elara.

New.

Ready.

Eager.

They circled him again in the moss-covered square, the crowd watching not with lustful hunger but with reverence. They knew now. They saw. This wasn’t porn. This wasn’t chaos. This was something ancient being reborn in front of them.

Jude lay back on the moss, eyes closed as the first hands touched him.

Lips followed. Tongues.

Whispers.

A chorus of love.

Lucy straddled him first, her body slow and aching. "This is for the city," she said, riding him with reverence. When she came, the buildings across the square shimmered as if heatwaves had passed through stone.

Zoey was next, biting, wild, hungry. She made him gasp. She made him cry out. And when she climaxed, a window shattered high above them - not in violence, but like a barrier falling.

Then Grace.

Then Natalie.

Each time their bodies joined, the ground pulsed, the petals swirled faster, and the glow expanded.

Emma and Sophie took him together, their lips meeting above his chest as they moved on either side of him, their hands roaming, their pleasure building like thunder in the sky.

When Rose finally took him again, the whole city seemed to moan.

Lights went out.

And golden fire replaced them.

People began to mirror them. The crowd became a field of lovers - some naked, some half-dressed, some simply kissing or holding, but all lit with the golden pulse.

Elara was last.

She crawled onto him, her body glowing with the intensity of someone who had only just tasted the divine.