Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women
Chapter 1593

Chapter 1593: Chapter 1593

The air inside the nest shimmered, dense with golden light and the breath of something sacred. No one moved for a long moment, their bodies stilled not by fear, but by the sheer weight of what they felt inside them. Jude sat frozen at the center, his chest rising and falling with deep, uneven breaths as he looked around at the women who now shared this impossible transformation. Each one of them glowing from within, not just touched by the island’s magic but filled with it - nurturing something new, something living.

Lucy’s hand trembled as she lifted it to her abdomen, her fingers brushing the soft, warm skin where a faint golden swirl had begun to appear, like a flower etched in light. "It’s not just inside us," she whispered. "It’s marking us."

Emma reached for Sophie’s hand and guided it to her own belly. "Feel it," she murmured, her voice reverent. "It’s beating."

Sophie, ever the skeptic, felt the rhythmic pulse beneath her palm and let out a soft breath. "Oh my god... it’s real."

Natalie curled her arms around Susan, who was still quiet, wide-eyed and trembling. "We’re not alone anymore," she whispered against her neck.

Zoey let out a breathless laugh and rolled onto her back, her hair fanning across the moss. "I always thought I’d be the last one to say it, but I’m not scared."

Scarlet pressed a kiss to her shoulder, then lowered herself beside her. "Me neither. It feels... right."

Jude looked around at all of them, his heart heavy with love so deep it ached. "I didn’t mean for this to happen."

Rose tilted her head, that soft, wise smile forming on her lips again. "But you didn’t resist it either. You gave yourself to us fully. To all of us. This isn’t just you planting life into us. It’s the island planting something into all of us."

Sophie’s voice was quiet but firm. "And we accepted it."

Grace leaned forward, brushing her fingers across the golden sprout nestled in the heart of the nest. "So what now? Do we wait?"

"No," Rose said. "We grow."

They spent the day in the nest, curled together, bodies tangled, the warmth of one another a comfort that words could never match. They whispered their hopes, their fears, their excitement. Some wept softly - Grace, Emma, Susan. Others made jokes to chase away the enormity - Zoey, Stella, Natalie. Jude listened to every word, every breath, his hands never idle, always touching, holding, reassuring.

He kissed them one by one. Not out of desire, but devotion.

Lucy cupped his face when it was her turn, eyes glistening. "Are you ready for this?"

He nodded. "If you are."

"I’ve never been more sure of anything," she whispered, and pressed her lips to his.

That night, they made love again - not with urgency, but with reverence.

Jude moved through them like worship. He took his time with each of them, murmuring their names like sacred verses. Rose led again, as she always did, her body guiding his in a rhythm older than time. She rode him slowly, her hands at his chest, her body glowing with a maternal light that made him tremble. When she came, she held his face and whispered, "You’ve given us the future."

Lucy followed, her body slick and eager, her breath catching with every deep thrust. Her eyes locked on his, desperate and trusting, and when she came apart, she cried out his name with such passion it felt like a spell.

Sophie surrendered next, her body all tension and heat until it melted into his. He held her through it, whispered "You’re safe," again and again until she finally came with a shudder and curled against him, silent tears wetting his skin.

One by one they gave themselves to him again. Stella’s grip was fierce, Zoey’s laughter breathless, Grace’s sobs raw and open. Emma’s kiss tasted of longing, Natalie’s touch was delicate, Scarlet was wild and slow, and Susan - Susan clung to him like she’d finally found the thing she’d never known she needed.

When it was over, they lay together, thirteen bodies wrapped in soft golden light, a tangle of limbs, kisses, murmured names, and glowing skin.

And the sprout had grown.

Taller now. With small leaves like fingers stretching toward the canopy. It pulsed with the same rhythm as their bodies, synced completely to the life they were creating.

The days that followed became something more than time.

They became a new kind of rhythm.

Mornings began with soft laughter, tangled limbs, mouths finding mouths beneath the golden light. Jude would wake to the feeling of warm bodies draped across his own, sometimes one, sometimes three, sometimes all. They kissed him like he was the fire that kept them lit. He kissed them back like they were the breath he needed to survive.

They ate fruit and drank from the river. They bathed together under waterfalls, fingertips trailing over bellies that glowed warmer now, rounder, fuller. The marks on their skin became more intricate, curling vines of gold and silver that moved slowly each day, like the island was etching love poems across their bodies.

They made love daily - sometimes tender, sometimes fierce, sometimes silent and slow like a song only they could hear. And after, they would lie in the moss, hearts beating in sync, hands on bellies, fingers interlaced, eyes closed to dreams that now felt more real than anything else ever had.

On the fifth day, the sprout opened its first blossom.

It wasn’t like any flower they’d seen. It was translucent and gold, shaped like a womb, glowing with a soft interior light that pulsed faintly.

"It’s ready," Rose whispered.

"For what?" Jude asked.

She touched his chest. "For the children."

And that night, the island gave them a new dream.

They dreamed together. One dream. One vision.

They stood in a circle, just as they had in the waking world, but the forest was gone, replaced by stars.