Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women
Chapter 1625

Chapter 1625: Chapter 1625

Their faces. Their bodies. Intertwined in gold and fire and passion.

The island had remembered.

And now, it was telling their story.

Emma reached out and touched the glowing image of herself, kissing Jude in the moss. The wall pulsed beneath her fingers. "It’s alive."

"No," Zoey said, pulling Jude up into a sitting position. "It’s us ."

They dressed in silence - not with clothes, but with light. The moss wrapped around their waists and shoulders, forming golden veils, whispering against skin. When they stepped from the chamber, the forest greeted them not with silence, but with music. Soft, sensual chords that rose from nowhere and everywhere, like the very trees were humming.

Outside, the sky had changed.

No longer blue.

Now it was a soft, living gold streaked with violet and pink, pulsing slowly with the same rhythm that beat inside their hearts.

Susan stepped close to Jude and took his hand. "Where do we go now?"

He looked at her, then to each of them - twelve women, glowing, reborn, his partners in everything they had become.

He smiled.

"Anywhere we want."

And the island bloomed.

They walked without direction, yet every step felt led. The island no longer offered resistance - it opened, invited, wrapped around them with warmth and intention. The path beneath their feet shimmered with life, moss rippling like silk under their weight, flowers blooming with every footfall. Trees leaned toward them, vines trailing behind like curious fingers. The very air pulsed in rhythm with their bodies, with the golden hum still echoing in their chests.

Jude held Lucy’s hand, her fingers laced through his with a grip both soft and possessive. On his other side, Rose walked barefoot, her hair kissed by golden pollen, eyes forward, shoulders relaxed. Behind them, the others followed in quiet reverence, their bodies draped in glowing veils of moss and vine, the symbols on their skin still pulsing faintly from the chamber’s blessing.

As they entered a clearing ringed by high white trees, the air thickened again - not ominous, but intimate. The space hummed like a heartbeat, and in the center of it, something waited.

It wasn’t a creature or a structure. It was light.

Pure golden flame, hovering a few feet off the ground, shifting and twisting as if dancing to a music only it could hear. It cast no heat, no shadow - only presence. As they approached, it moved, curling inward, then expanding like breath.

Rose stepped forward first, her voice barely a whisper. "It’s an echo."

"Of what?" Emma asked, her voice husky.

Rose turned, smiling slowly. "Of us."

Jude stepped closer, drawn in by the flame’s warmth. As he neared, he saw it wasn’t just fire - it was made of moments. Flashes of memory flickered inside it: Zoey’s laughter, Lucy’s first kiss, Stella’s soft gasp the first time they made love in the treehouse, Susan’s wide eyes the morning she woke with golden moss blooming around her. Their story danced in the flame, alive and radiant.

Sophie stepped beside him, her arms crossed, her eyes narrowing. "It’s watching us."

"No," Grace whispered. "It’s learning ."

The flame pulsed once, and then from within it, tendrils reached outward - not threatening, but beckoning. One by one, the women moved forward, extending their hands into the golden strands. As they touched the light, their bodies shimmered, the markings on their skin lighting up in bright pulses. Jude watched, breath held, as Rose was the first to be fully wrapped in the golden flame.

Her body arched, a soft cry leaving her lips - not of pain, but pleasure. Deep, reverent pleasure.

Lucy gasped and reached for Jude’s hand as the tendrils touched her too, sliding along her arm, curling around her waist. She moaned softly as the light entered her, moved through her, not burning but awakening.

Then it touched Jude.

His knees buckled.

He felt everything .

Every kiss, every cry, every climax, every whisper shared in the dark. He felt the way Grace had trembled the first time he said her name. The way Stella clung to him that night by the river. The way Sophie had gasped the first time she saw the stars reflected in his eyes. He felt their trust, their love, their devotion - not as memories, but as power.

His body glowed bright gold, and the flame sank into him.

And when it withdrew, the clearing was silent.

Then the flame exploded upward, a column of light shooting through the canopy, splitting the sky. The clouds parted in a spiral, revealing a second sun - smaller, golden, not burning but radiant. The air shimmered with energy, like static after lightning. The ground pulsed. The trees bent.

And then from behind them, the forest shifted.

A shape emerged.

Tall. Human-shaped. But not human.

It was carved from light, draped in moss, vines twisting through its hair like a crown. Its face was featureless, but it exuded warmth, intimacy, something ancient and deeply erotic. It stepped into the clearing without sound, eyes - if it had them - locked on Jude.

He didn’t move.

The figure stopped before him and extended a hand.

Not a threat.

An invitation.

Lucy pressed against his side. "What is it?"

Alara’s voice echoed from somewhere unseen. "The island’s true form. Its lover’s face. Its breath, now given shape."

Jude took the figure’s hand.

And the clearing melted away.

He stood not on ground, but in golden sky. Around him, the wives floated like stars, their bodies nude and radiant, their faces filled with wonder. Time unraveled, space folded inward, and he was everywhere at once - with them, inside them, surrounded by them.

They were making love in a dream, in a memory, in a future not yet born.

Stella’s moans curled through his mind like smoke.

Susan’s nails scratched softly down his spine.

Emma kissed him in one world while Natalie wrapped her thighs around his hips in another.

Rose guided his hands, his lips, his heart.

Lucy whispered in his ear, "You are the bond. The flame. The seed."