Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women
Chapter 1677

Chapter 1677: Chapter 1677

Jude walked toward them, Kael and Lucy at his sides. "They’ll need guidance."

"They’ll need you," Rose said, stepping forward and placing her palm over his heart. "You’re still the seed."

He looked past her, to the boats now resting in the surf, empty. "More will come."

"They already are," Stella said, nodding toward the horizon.

Another sail had appeared.

Then two more.

Then five.

The sea shimmered with ships.

Jude turned slowly.

And smiled.

A hush fell over the clearing as more sails crested the horizon, white and gleaming like the wings of seabirds. The newcomers stood with wide eyes, mouths parted in awe, not fear. The wives began to gather in twos and threes, their bodies wrapped in loose silk woven from the island’s vines, glowing faintly under the rising sun. Jude stood at the center, Lucy at his side, Kael still pressed to his chest, her hair wild from the night. Zoey moved to the edge of the mossy ledge that overlooked the sea, squinting into the dawnlight. "They’re coming fast."

Grace stood beside her, her voice low but steady. "The island’s calling louder now."

Sophie crossed her arms and stepped beside Jude. "Are we ready for this many?"

"No," he said honestly, glancing at the ships, then at his lovers, then back to Rose, who was stepping out from between the trees, her golden wrap fluttering in the breeze. "But we weren’t ready for each other either, and look what happened."

Rose smiled, warm and knowing. "Readiness is an illusion. Truth is the only thing we carry."

The forest murmured behind them, trees bending slightly as if bowing to something greater. The pulse from the heartstone still echoed faintly in Jude’s chest, and the moss beneath their feet thrummed in rhythm. He could feel the new souls approaching. Fear. Curiosity. Hunger. Pain. Desire. So much desire. He looked to the others, feeling the certainty rise.

"We greet them," Jude said. "But we don’t convince them. We don’t convert them. We show them. And let the island speak."

Zoey turned to him. "Naked?"

"Always," Lucy answered for him with a grin.

Scarlet rolled her eyes, tugging off the silk that had barely clung to her hips. "Then let’s be honest."

Laughter rippled through them, light and sensual. It danced up through the trees and down into the sea.

By the time the boats touched shore, the group had already walked to the beach, barefoot, bathed in gold. Jude stepped first into the surf, Kael at his side, Lucy and Rose behind him, their bodies luminous, their expressions open. Behind them, the circle widened: Sophie, Emma, Stella, Grace, Susan, Natalie, Zoey, Scarlet. Each one radiant. Each one whole.

Daro and Miren followed, still new, still adjusting, but glowing with the same warm bloom that marked the changed. The waves licked at their ankles as the boats came ashore.

From the first vessel stepped a woman, tall and commanding, her hair braided in rows tight against her skull, dark eyes flicking across the shoreline. She wore a cloak of wet leather and salt, her arms bare, muscular, her stance guarded. Beside her stepped a man, younger, wiry, eyes flicking from Kael to Jude and back.

"Is this the place?" the woman asked, her voice rough with travel.

Jude said nothing.

Kael stepped forward. "It is."

The woman’s gaze dropped, taking in the nudity, the gleaming skin, the golden light that shimmered off their shoulders. "You’re not what we expected."

"No one is," Lucy said, her voice sweet and serene.

"What is this?" the man beside her asked. "Some cult?"

"You came," Jude said simply. "That’s all that matters."

The man snorted. "We came because we had nowhere else to go. Dreams. Heat. Visions. You infected us."

Sophie’s jaw tensed. "We didn’t send the dreams. The island did."

Another boat landed. Then another. Figures stepped off - confused, wary, afraid. Some clutched spears, others sacks of supplies. But their eyes betrayed it all. The dreams had drawn them. The longing had pulled them. Some of them already felt it - the way the air was thicker here, the way the moss beneath their feet welcomed their steps. The island was singing to them.

Rose stepped forward, eyes glowing like sunrise. "You can fight it, if you want. Or you can listen."

The woman from the first boat narrowed her eyes. "What happens if we stay?"

"You change," Kael said. "Not all at once. Not by force. But slowly. Deeply. Truthfully."

"And if we leave?"

"You can’t un-hear the call," Lucy said. "And eventually... you’ll return."

More sails still approached. The beach would be full soon. Jude felt the weight of it settle in his chest - not fear, not burden, but something like gravity. Anchoring. He was the root. Alara had said it. Now he understood it.

He stepped forward, his skin still glowing with the remnants of the ritual, still kissed by moss and memory. "We’re not gods," he said to the newcomers. "We’re not prophets. We’re not your salvation."

The wind stirred around him, warm and alive.

"We are lovers," he said. "We are dreamers. We are the answer to a question you’ve been afraid to ask. And if you let go, if you allow yourself to feel - everything changes."

He held out his hand.

Not to command.

To invite.

And slowly, one by one, the newcomers began to move. First a young woman with windburned cheeks and trembling fingers. She stepped forward and took Lucy’s hand. Then a boy, barely grown, eyes full of awe, who walked straight into Rose’s embrace and wept against her shoulder.

The leader still stood back, watching with suspicion.

But her companion stepped forward and fell to his knees in the surf.

Jude knelt beside him, resting a hand on his shoulder. "It’s not weakness," he said. "It’s awakening."

The sun broke fully over the horizon then, bathing the beach in molten gold. The island sighed. Trees swayed. The moss that blanketed the forest edge bloomed in wild pinks and reds.

The tide rolled in.

And the singing began.

Not from voices.

From the earth.

The forest.

The sea.

The sky.

The island was alive, and it had opened.

Kael took Jude’s hand. Lucy linked with his other. Behind them, the circle reformed, bodies joining, arms entwined, heat rising.

They didn’t pull the newcomers into it.

They didn’t need to.

Because the island would.

One breath at a time.