Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women
Chapter 1650

Chapter 1650: Chapter 1650

Grace nodded slowly. "Like I’ve always been turning toward this moment without realizing."

Sophie stepped to Jude’s side, her fingers brushing his. "Then the fifth spiral is the one that begins the future."

"No," Rose whispered, stepping forward, her golden eyes darkening slightly. "The fifth spiral is the one that tests it."

The forest shuddered.

Not violently - but with a ripple, like breath held in anticipation. A breeze swept through the trees, carrying a scent none of them had ever known - sweet, smoky, seductive. The sunlight dimmed, not fading, but shifting, as if something had passed in front of the sun that wasn’t a cloud. Shadows lengthened unnaturally. The trees bent inward, forming a dome overhead, darker, deeper. In the center of the spiral-circle, the moss parted.

And revealed a stairway of black stone.

Descending into the earth.

Susan wrapped her arms around herself, eyes wide. "That wasn’t there before."

"It was," Zoey murmured. "We just weren’t meant to see it until now."

Emma stepped toward the stairs, but Jude held out his arm.

"We go together," he said.

They moved as one, bare feet stepping onto the cold stone, the spiral at their backs pulsing once in farewell. As they descended, the light above dimmed, swallowed by the dark. The stairs spiraled downwards - tight, wet, the walls slick with vines that shimmered in pulses like veins. The silence was thick. The air was warmer the deeper they went, but not stifling. It smelled of deep earth, old heat, and something rich and metallic - like iron and sex.

When they reached the bottom, the tunnel opened into a vast chamber.

And in the center, the fifth spiral.

This one was not light.

It was shadow.

Etched into the stone floor, glowing faintly with a red-gold hue, the fifth spiral radiated heat. It pulsed slower, deeper, like the heartbeat of something sleeping beneath.

A figure stood within it.

Not Alara.

Not a reflection.

But another woman.

She was older than time.

Naked, her skin a tapestry of dark red and black spirals, her hair a curtain of ink. Her breasts were full, her hips wide, her feet buried in the stone like roots. Her eyes were closed. Her presence made their own glow dim.

She opened her eyes.

They were pitch black.

"You’ve come far," she said.

Her voice was rich and deep, like embers whispering in the dark.

"Who are you?" Lucy asked, her voice barely above a breath.

The woman stepped forward. "I am the fifth. The spiral of the body. Of hunger. Of chaos. Of truth."

Her gaze moved across each of them like a tongue.

"You have merged. You have remembered. You have reflected. You have chosen."

She stepped to Jude.

"Now you surrender."

Jude swallowed. "To what?"

"To me."

She smiled.

And the spiral erupted with fire.

Not burning, not painful - but devouring. The flame licked their skin, drawing moans from the wives as it soaked into their pores. The chamber filled with heat, with sound, with breath. The woman stepped behind Jude and pressed her lips to his neck.

"You want control," she whispered. "You want order. But the fifth spiral is chaos."

She spun him.

And kissed him.

Hard.

His knees buckled.

Behind him, he heard gasps, moans. Hands moving. Mouths finding flesh. The heat overwhelmed reason. The women fell into each other, into him, into themselves. Clothes disappeared - what little they wore. The stone burned against their backs as bodies slammed into each other.

The woman moved among them, touching each one, whispering something that set their skin ablaze with need.

"Let go," she said, again and again. "Let go of control. Let go of thought. Let go of restraint."

Lucy screamed as her climax tore through her.

Emma writhed beneath Grace, their thighs tangled, mouths locked.

Stella was on her knees before Jude, her eyes wide and wild, her mouth worshipping him as if he were the last taste of life she would ever know.

Sophie rode him hard, her moans echoing like thunder. Her nails dug into his chest, blood mingling with the light.

And the fifth spiral pulsed red.

Rose pulled the woman down and kissed her.

They writhed together, their bodies serpents, their cries layered in heat and darkness. The woman laughed, not cruelly, but triumphantly.

"You’ve tasted love," she whispered. "You’ve tasted dreams. Now taste truth."

Jude came again, this time inside Zoey, who arched back and howled like an animal being reborn. The chamber trembled. The spiral lifted off the ground and spun above them, glowing red now, crackling with electric pleasure.

And then -

Silence.

All of them collapsed.

Dripping.

Spent.

Breathing like they’d run through fire.

The woman stood among them, untouched, glowing.

"You did well," she said.

She turned to Jude, knelt beside him, and placed her hand over his heart.

"You’ve surrendered. Now rise."

He opened his eyes.

And the sixth spiral bloomed above them.

This one was neither gold nor red.

It was every color.

And it waited.

The sixth spiral hovered overhead like a living prism, spinning slowly with every hue known and unknown, colors that shimmered with memory and promise. Jude blinked against the brilliance of it, unable to look away. It didn’t pulse like the others. It breathed. Each rotation exhaled warmth, and each flicker of light kissed his skin with meaning too vast to speak aloud. Around him, the women stirred, their bodies tangled and damp with the remnants of the fifth spiral’s chaos. But in the glow of the sixth, they seemed reborn - limbs slow, faces dazed but radiant, every motion tender, almost reverent.

The woman of the fifth spiral was gone.

No door had opened. No wind had carried her away. But her presence had left an imprint, raw and unforgettable, like the scent of smoke clinging to skin after fire.

Sophie sat up first, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Her body trembled slightly, and when her eyes met Jude’s, there was no fear, no doubt - only awe. "It’s different," she whispered.