Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women
Chapter 1608

Chapter 1608: Chapter 1608

Starlight filtered through the canopy, silver now instead of gold, as if the island had shifted into another phase of itself - dreamlike, tender, breathless. The moss beneath them still shimmered faintly from what they had shared, a bed of light and sweat and union. Jude sat up slowly, careful not to disturb Lucy who had fallen asleep with her head on his thigh, one arm curled possessively around his waist. He brushed a soft kiss to her temple. She sighed, eyes fluttering open with a sleepy, satisfied smile.

"Where are we now?" she asked, voice low and velvet.

He didn’t answer with words. He looked around the clearing, and she followed his gaze. The sky above had changed. The stars weren’t just stars anymore - they were symbols , shapes that moved slowly, like celestial beings rearranging themselves for a new story.

Emma was already up, crouched beside a tree, running her fingers over the glowing runes now etched into its bark. "They weren’t here before."

"They’re everywhere," Grace murmured, stretching languidly, hair tumbling around her shoulders as she rose and turned. "Each tree’s speaking now."

"What are they saying?" Natalie asked, stepping barefoot through the dew-drenched moss.

Stella walked beside her, reaching up to touch one of the symbols etched in a trunk above her head. "They’re waiting for us to answer."

Jude stood, his body sore in a delicious way, used and worshipped and claimed, every muscle humming with the echo of their passion. He moved to the center of the grove and looked to the stars again. The constellation above him flickered - then one star pulsed brighter than the rest.

A sound echoed in his mind.

Not heard.

Felt.

A single tone, deep and resonant, like the start of a song yet unwritten.

Sophie stepped close behind him. "It’s calling you again."

"No," Jude said slowly. "It’s calling all of us. "

Zoey appeared beside him, utterly naked, utterly fearless. "Then let’s answer louder this time."

Susan slipped her fingers into Jude’s, her skin cool and firm. "Do we walk again? Do we find another gate?"

"No more gates," said Rose. She stood slightly apart from the others, arms crossed, eyes glowing faintly. "This time we’re not meant to follow anything."

"We lead?" Scarlet asked.

"No," Rose replied. "We become ."

The moss beneath their feet changed then. From soft and pliant, it began to glow with shifting paths of white light - twelve lines spiraling out from where Jude stood in the center. Each path extended toward a different part of the forest, each pulsing like a heartbeat.

He looked at them, at his wives, his lovers, his chosen - each radiant, each utterly unique, yet bound to him and to each other by something deeper than blood or need.

"It’s showing us who we are," Jude said softly.

Lucy stood, walked to one of the glowing paths, and placed her foot on it. Immediately, the light under her feet rippled upward, trailing across her skin, wrapping her in strands of silken energy. Her eyes widened. "It’s showing me everything. "

One by one, the others stepped to their own paths.

Emma.

Zoey.

Natalie.

Stella.

Grace.

Susan.

Scarlet.

Sophie.

Each glowed differently - different hues, different textures. Sophie’s path was jagged and bright like lightning. Stella’s was soft and pale blue, rippling like water. Zoey’s flickered like flame. Grace’s glowed steady and golden. Susan’s path shimmered with mist. Natalie’s pulsed like wind in a storm. Scarlet’s was wild - almost chaotic, vines and thorns and petals. Lucy’s sparkled like the stars themselves.

Emma hesitated before stepping onto hers, but once she did, a fierce violet light surrounded her, steady and bold. She gasped and whispered, "This... this is what I always felt under my skin."

Only Rose remained standing with Jude at the center.

She met his eyes, and a slow smile spread across her lips. "You don’t get a path, do you?"

"I think..." Jude breathed, "I am the path."

Rose stepped forward, touched his chest.

The other twelve paths pulsed brighter, flowing inward, weaving into him. Twelve threads. Twelve stories. Twelve bodies. Twelve flames.

They poured into him.

He didn’t scream.

He sang.

The song wasn’t in words. It was moans. Gasps. Cries of love. The rhythm of bodies meeting in the dark, of lips exploring skin, of hearts pounding in surrender. It was the sound of them.

And then the world cracked.

Above them, the stars unraveled - falling in soft trails of stardust, swirling around the grove like a new creation.

They weren’t just people anymore.

They were the myth.

Rose cupped Jude’s face and kissed him, deep and slow, anchoring him. He felt her power surge through him - her fire, her certainty. Then Lucy kissed him, her fingers tangled in his hair, her love like silk. Sophie pressed her lips to his shoulder. Zoey to his throat. Emma to his chest.

They kissed him in turn.

Every wife.

Every soul.

And with each kiss, his light changed again.

When they stepped back, Jude stood radiant, not blinding but beautiful - like dusk, like candlelight, like a body painted by every color of their love.

The paths beneath them dimmed.

The island quieted.

Then Rose spoke, her voice thick with reverence. "It’s time."

"For what?" Stella asked, voice hushed.

"For us to build," said Lucy.

They looked around the grove.

Not just trees anymore.

Foundations.

Walls of roots already beginning to shape themselves into rooms.

Canopies folding like ceilings.

The ground reshaped - beds of moss forming into circles, terraces, baths of stone filled with glowing water.

A home.

Not built with wood or tools - but shaped by will.

By connection.

By love.

Susan turned in a slow circle, awe wide in her eyes. "It’s giving us what we dream."

"No," said Emma, smiling. "We’re giving it the dream. And it’s answering."

Jude stepped forward, lifted his hands, and thought of warmth, of comfort, of a space where every part of them could come alive.

The grove changed.

A central hearth appeared - a ring of smooth black stones with fire that danced without smoke.