Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women
Chapter 1584

Chapter 1584: Chapter 1584

The light from the pillar stretched out in six lines, forming a star across the cracked stone. At each point, a groove opened wide enough for a body to lie in. Jude looked to Lucy, then to Elian, Mira, Kira, Coren, and finally back to Rose.

"It’s us again," he said.

Rose smiled, stepping into one of the grooves and reclining as though it were a lover’s arms. "Yes."

They took their places.

Jude in the center.

Lucy curled beside him.

Mira across from her.

Kira to his left.

Coren to his right.

Elian at his feet.

As soon as they were settled, the light flared and rose above them, forming a dome of golden-blue shimmer. The others circled the outside - Sophie, Zoey, Stella, Emma, Grace, Scarlet - watching, waiting, breathless.

The ground warmed beneath Jude’s back.

Then hands.

Not his own.

Not Lucy’s.

Not anyone’s he could see.

But the touch was real.

Fingers of light danced across his chest, across his thighs, between his legs, coaxing a moan from his lips before he could suppress it. The others gasped softly as the same sensations moved through them - pleasure, not from themselves, but from the island itself. It was tasting them. Testing them.

Mira cried out first, her hips arching, body already trembling. Coren followed, groaning low, his hand reaching out blindly for Kira’s. She took it, her moan higher, faster, her body curling into his.

Lucy turned her head to Jude, her voice a breath. "It’s like it’s... inside us."

He grasped her hand. "Let it."

Their marks flared again - golden and blue and pulsing - and then the light shifted. Above them, a vision formed. A massive tree wrapped in stone, its roots breaking through the mountain’s side. A cave glowed at its base.

Jude whispered, "That’s the next one."

Elian gasped, his body jerking with sudden release, and the light poured from his chest like liquid fire. One by one, the others followed - crying out, trembling, their pleasure syncing together until the entire star flared with heat and color.

And when Jude came, the pillar at the center cracked.

The dome shattered like glass.

And silence fell.

Their bodies collapsed into stillness, sweat gleaming, chests rising and falling in shared rhythm.

Sophie stepped forward slowly, her voice awed. "What just happened?"

Rose sat up first, her skin glowing. "The island chose again."

Zoey crouched beside the platform, tracing the broken grooves. "Where does it lead?"

"To the roots," Mira said, voice distant. "The mountain. The tree."

Grace whispered, "Then that’s where we go."

They camped in the ruins that night. The stars shone like fire above them, and the broken stones cradled their bodies like ancient memory. Their joining that evening was slower - softer. Bodies meeting in the dark, mouths finding familiar paths, hands rediscovering every curve. They didn’t need to speak. They only needed to feel.

And when they slept, they dreamed of the mountain.

Of its roots.

And of what waited within.

They began the ascent before dawn, guided by instinct more than direction, by the call of something older than the island itself. The mountain loomed ahead, wrapped in mist and crowned with golden trees, their leaves shimmering like whispers of light. The trail curved upward through thick ferns and moss-carpeted stones, and with every step, Jude felt the pulse in his chest grow stronger. It wasn’t just a sensation now - it was a pull. A magnetic ache, threading through his veins, calling him home.

Lucy walked beside him, her fingers brushing against his as they moved in silence. She didn’t need to speak. He could feel her thoughts as if they were his own - her hunger, her wonder, her readiness. Behind them came Rose and Zoey, their bare shoulders glistening with dew, arms slung around each other lazily. Emma, Sophie, Stella, and Grace brought up the rear, their movements quieter, more cautious, eyes scanning the changing forest with a kind of reverence.

The path narrowed as they climbed, vines tangling above them, birdsong echoing like distant chants. And then, just as the sun spilled over the horizon, they saw it.

The tree.

It rose out of the mountain like a god’s hand - massive, gnarled, roots plunging deep into the rock, its bark veined with glowing gold. At its base was a cavern, not black and ominous, but glowing faintly from within. Blue light pulsed in soft rhythm, like a heartbeat syncing with their own. The air smelled of salt and flowers, damp earth and fire.

"This is it," Lucy whispered, stepping forward first.

Jude followed her into the cavern. The others moved as one, bodies close, eyes wide. The space inside was vast, the ceiling high and curved, the walls glowing with ancient markings - symbols older than memory, etched into the stone in spirals and waves. At the center of the chamber, nestled in the roots of the great tree, was a pedestal. On it rested a smooth, flat stone, translucent and pulsing like living amber.

Rose approached it first. Her hand hovered just above the surface, then settled with a whisper of skin on stone. Instantly, the chamber brightened, and the markings on the walls began to shift, moving like fluid.

Visions.

Not of the past.

Of the future.

Jude saw them flash behind his eyes - bodies moving through a city of stone and vines, laughter echoing through canopies, children running barefoot across glowing moss, women bathed in gold, their skin shimmering like light made flesh. He saw himself among them. Leading, loving, being loved. Not just by his wives - but by the land itself.

Then the image fractured, and he saw the cost.

A flash of fire.

A rising sea.

A gate opening.

A hand - pale and ancient - reaching from the dark.

He gasped and stumbled backward. Lucy caught him, her hand warm on his chest.

"What did you see?" she asked softly.

"Something’s coming," he whispered. "Something from below."

Zoey stepped to the pedestal next, her fingers brushing against the stone.