Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women
Chapter 1599

Chapter 1599: Chapter 1599

Jude smiled and sat up carefully, easing Lucy’s arm from his chest. She murmured something in her sleep and curled tighter around their daughter. He stood barefoot, stretching, and walked toward the edge of the field. The path to the heartstone glowed faintly in the distance, pulsing slowly like it was still dreaming too.

He didn’t head that way.

Instead, he turned toward the cliffs - the place where this had all begun, where Rose had once fallen, where the island had first shown its power. The wind met him gently, salty and cool, brushing against his bare skin like a greeting. The sea shimmered in the dark, moonlight silvering its surface. And the sky... the sky was slowly bleeding into blue.

He stood at the cliff’s edge, toes against the stone, heart wide open.

And he spoke - not to anyone near, but to the island itself. "They’re here now. All of them. And they’re safe. And loved."

The wind stirred, lifting the edge of his hair, curling around his fingers.

"I don’t know what we’re becoming," he whispered. "But I’ll protect them. Always."

Something shifted behind him. He didn’t need to turn.

Rose.

She stepped close, pressing against his back, her arms slipping around his waist.

"I felt you leave," she murmured.

"I needed to remember the beginning."

"You are the beginning now," she said, kissing his shoulder. "The root. The pulse."

He turned, pulling her into his arms. She smelled of smoke and salt and sex and life. She looked like a goddess again, but he knew now she was more than that. She was mother. Lover. Anchor.

"I’m scared sometimes," he admitted.

Rose tilted her head. "Of what?"

"That I won’t be enough."

Her lips curved into a smile as soft as moss. "You don’t have to be everything. You just have to be with us."

Behind them, another voice stirred.

"I knew I’d find you two here."

It was Sophie.

She wore nothing but a thin wrap of linen around her waist, her belly full and glowing in the rising light. She joined them, arms curling around both their bodies, pressing into their warmth like she was sinking into the roots of a tree.

"I dreamed of the ocean," she said.

"What did it say?" Jude asked.

She smiled against his chest. "That it’s deep. And it’s hungry. And it’s beautiful. Just like me."

He laughed softly, holding them both.

The sky turned pink. The island exhaled.

When they returned to the field, the others were already waking. Zoey was the first up, stretching her arms overhead, her breasts bare and full, her baby nestled in the crook of her elbow. Natalie yawned loudly and reached for a bowl of wild berries Stella had gathered. Susan bathed her child with a wet cloth, whispering to her in a language that wasn’t words, just soft sounds and love.

Sophie bent beside Emma, who was drawing symbols into the dirt near the new home’s entrance.

"They’re wards," Emma explained. "To protect us. I saw them in a dream."

"We trust dreams now?" Zoey teased.

Emma met her eyes. "We always have."

That morning, they began building in earnest. Not just shelter now, but a village. A space for each mother. A shared center. Places to eat, to sleep, to learn, to love. The island gave freely. Vines bent willingly into ropes. Trees dropped wide leaves perfect for roofing. Even the animals came close, no longer hiding - watching with wide, unafraid eyes.

Jude worked beside them, muscles aching but heart light. Every moment felt sacred. Every breath shared.

The children thrived.

They grew faster than normal. By the end of the third day, Lucy’s daughter was crawling, giggling, her eyes glowing brighter than ever. Grace’s son could already stand with help. Emma whispered that the island was feeding them from the inside, helping them catch up to something ancient. Something meant.

On the fifth day, Sophie went still.

She stood beneath the heartstone at twilight, hands pressed to her belly, her body shivering.

"It’s time," she said simply.

No one rushed. No one panicked. They gathered around her, weaving petals into bedding, warming water from the pool, singing softly.

Jude took her hand.

She kissed him and smiled. "I’m not afraid."

Her labor was different. Slower. Quieter. She didn’t scream. She sang - low, deep notes that reverberated through the ground. When her body finally opened, the baby came in complete silence.

And twins emerged.

One girl. One boy.

Wrapped in gold.

The moment they touched the moss, the heartstone blazed to life.

A second beam of light shot into the sky.

Everyone gasped.

The babies did not cry. They opened their eyes - wide and golden - and stared at Jude.

"They’re the key," Rose whispered, awestruck. "The balance. The ones who remember."

Jude cradled them both, his heart full to bursting. Sophie leaned against him, pale but smiling, her eyes glowing.

"They chose me," she said. "They chose all of us."

That night, under the canopy of stars and light and song, Jude stood at the center of his family.

Twelve wives.

Eleven children.

One island.

And something beyond any of it - something old and dreaming and proud.

He looked at them all, their faces painted with firelight and love, and he knew.

This was their new world.

And they had only just begun to shape it.

The morning came not with silence, but with laughter.

High, bright, bubbling laughter - not from the women, but from the children. Lucy’s daughter was chasing Zoey’s through the moss with unsteady legs, her giggles echoing through the golden field like wind chimes. Grace’s son clapped his hands from the edge of the pool, sending small ripples dancing across the surface. Stella and Natalie watched them with soft eyes, arms draped around one another, while Rose braided Sophie’s hair in the shade of a blooming tree.

Jude stood just outside the curve of their new home’s half-formed walls, holding Sophie’s twins - one on each arm, pressed close to his chest.