Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women
Chapter 1580

Chapter 1580: Chapter 1580

The light from the heartstone never dimmed now. It pulsed steadily through the nights and days, sending golden tendrils of warmth into the sky and through the soil. Moss bloomed faster. Flowers unfolded in seconds instead of hours. Even the water in the river shimmered with a strange, luminescent clarity. The island was no longer responding to them - it was moving with them. Breathing with them. And at its center, Jude could feel the rhythm deepening.

He stood at the edge of the Gate just before dawn, watching the forest beyond. The leaves rustled not with wind but anticipation. There were no footsteps this time. No breaking branches or sudden voices. Just stillness. Pregnant. Poised.

Then they came.

Six of them.

Four women, two men. All barefoot, all dressed in tattered cloth. All blinking like they were waking from the same long sleep. Jude took one step forward, and the trees parted behind them, revealing the path in full light.

Lucy appeared beside him, her hair braided with thin vines that shimmered golden. "They’re younger," she whispered. "Not in body. In spirit."

He nodded. "They’re afraid."

"We weren’t?" she said with a smile.

The new arrivals hesitated at the edge of the moss. One of the women, tall with sharp cheekbones and bruises on her arms, looked as though she might bolt. One of the men stared at the ground like he was trying to will it to disappear. But another woman stepped forward - small, compact, eyes like flint - and spoke.

"We were told we would know by the light."

"You found it," Jude said.

The others began to stir. Rose approached from the other side of the circle, wrapped in gossamer cloth that clung to her hips and shimmered with every movement. Grace walked beside her, fingers still sticky with fruit sap, her lips curved in a quiet smile.

"Were you sent?" one of the new men asked.

"We were awakened," Sophie said, stepping forward, arms crossed over her chest. "Just like you."

The sharp-cheekboned woman swallowed hard. "And if we don’t want this?"

"No one takes," Lucy said gently. "Everything here is offered."

A hush fell. The new six stepped forward slowly, past the Gate’s edge, into the moss and light. They breathed in the warmth like it was air they hadn’t tasted before. Their eyes flicked over the stones, the trees, the circle of radiant, half-dressed women who watched them with no judgment.

Zoey appeared beside the river, completely nude, water dripping from her thighs. She didn’t cover herself. She only watched. Scarlet stood behind her, braiding her wet hair with idle fingers. They were humming - a low, wordless sound that vibrated through the clearing.

"Why does everything feel..." the flint-eyed woman hesitated, "alive?"

Jude smiled. "Because it is. And so are you."

Natalie brought water to them, offering it in wooden cups carved from the roots of the great tree. One of the men took it with shaking fingers. The other, slower, knelt to smell it before drinking. When it touched his lips, he gasped.

"It’s... music."

Lucy nodded. "Everything here sings."

By midmorning, the newcomers had been fed. Bathed. Rested. Their fear hadn’t vanished, but it no longer led them. Mira sat with the flint-eyed woman - who finally gave her name, Kira - brushing tangles from her hair and whispering stories. Elian and Asha shared fruit with the tall, bruised woman, who barely spoke but leaned closer each time Asha laughed.

That afternoon, the ritual began again.

But it wasn’t the same.

Each time was different.

Because each soul was different.

This time, it was not a single couple who initiated the joining. It was a circle within a circle. Rose and Lucy. Sophie and Grace. Mira and Kira. Bodies meeting with slow reverence. Tongues exploring. Fingers coaxing. The moss cradled them. The air thickened.

Jude did not move to the center.

He watched.

Waited.

Felt.

One of the new men, lean and silent, reached for Zoey when she offered her hand. She guided him gently into the rhythm, pressing him down into the moss, kissing him until his body softened and his breath came in small, shaking moans.

Asha rode the second man slowly, her body slick and radiant, her movements a silent hymn. Natalie curled against her back, whispering encouragement in every rise and fall of her hips.

Scarlet cried out beneath Stella’s mouth, her fingers buried in wild curls, her thighs trembling.

And Kira -

Kira rose.

Naked.

Golden.

And walked to Jude.

He stood when she approached, her eyes locked on his, her breath uneven. "Do you remember me?" she asked.

His brow furrowed. "No."

She reached out, placed a hand on his chest. "I dreamed of you. Not just the island. You ."

He stepped closer. "Then let me remember you now."

Their mouths met - not with the gentleness of an invitation, but the certainty of destiny. She groaned when he lifted her, when he carried her to the moss and laid her down, his mouth on her throat, his hands firm on her hips. She arched into him, body already trembling.

They didn’t speak again.

He entered her with a slow, unbreaking rhythm, and she clung to him like wind to fire. Around them, the others moved in a slow dance - moans and sighs, the brush of mouths, the pulse of hips.

When Kira came, it was with a shout - half agony, half relief - and when Jude followed, he buried his face in her shoulder and whispered something he didn’t understand.

After, she wept.

And Lucy held her.

Rose stroked her hair.

And Jude stayed beside her, curled against her side.

By morning, the island bloomed again.

More flowers. More vines. The moss thickened. The air shimmered with possibility.

At the Gate, the light flared.

And Jude knew.

There would be more.

The bloom was growing.

And they had become the root.

The morning light spilled over the canopy in soft golden ribbons, weaving through the leaves and branches, casting shimmering patterns onto the moss below.