Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women
Chapter 1679

Chapter 1679: Chapter 1679

The light above them dimmed slowly, as though the island itself had drawn a curtain to let them rest. The trees leaned inward, moss coiling around ankles and thighs like a lover refusing to release its grip. The beach no longer felt like a boundary between land and sea - it felt like a temple. A cradle. A pulsing, breathing shrine built from skin, salt, and light.

Jude lay on his back, sand clinging to his damp skin, Lucy curled against his left side, Rose breathing soft and slow on his chest. Their bodies glistened with the remnants of love and ritual, and when Jude looked past them to the shore, he saw the forest glowing - not with fire, but with life. The new arrivals were scattered across the moss and beach, some dozing, some locked in the lingering touches of connection, their bodies slowly absorbing the island’s rhythm.

Grace stood ankle-deep in the tide, her golden hair drenched and wild, her fingers slowly braiding a strand of seaweed into her curls. Nearby, Stella walked hand-in-hand with two newcomers, leading them toward the deeper trees. Sophie was perched on a low stone outcrop, knees pulled to her chest, watching everyone, her expression unreadable - but she was glowing too, faint but steady, like a flame that had stopped hiding from its own light.

Zoey appeared beside Jude with a bowl of fruit in her hands, sliced fresh from the groves inland. Her skin was flushed and shimmering, her eyes dancing with mischief. "We might need more moss beds," she said lightly, sitting cross-legged beside him. "The newcomers are very... enthusiastic."

"Are they afraid?" Jude asked.

She shook her head. "Not anymore. They’re listening now. Not just to us. To the island. It’s inside them."

Lucy propped herself up on one elbow, tracing slow lines on Jude’s stomach. "They came full of need. They’re leaving that behind."

Rose stretched with a soft, languid sigh and pressed a kiss to Jude’s jaw. "No," she murmured. "They’re not leaving it. They’re transforming it."

At the forest’s edge, a sudden soft hum vibrated the air. Not threatening. Not loud. Just... new. Jude sat up slowly, the weight of golden light still in his chest. "Did you hear that?"

Zoey nodded, rising to her feet. "From the east."

Grace turned from the waves. "It’s calling again."

Jude stood, brushing sand from his thighs, his eyes scanning the tree line. And then he saw it - just beyond the edge where the jungle met the shore, where the moss curled thick and inviting. A figure.

Alara.

She stepped forward with bare feet, her hair crowned with orchids and stars, her body lit from within. The island bowed around her. Moss curled toward her. The sky above her blushed with gold.

The wives all turned slowly, instinctively, drawn to her like a tide to the moon.

She stopped in front of Jude, her gaze soft but direct. "It begins."

"We thought it had," he said.

Alara smiled, and the glow in her eyes deepened. "You’ve touched the root. You’ve awakened the circle. But now comes the fruit."

She reached out and touched his chest, right over the glow.

"You carry it now. The potential. The pulse."

Jude shivered under her fingers. Lucy came to stand beside him, and Rose beside her.

Alara looked between them. "You three are the anchor. But now you must choose."

Jude’s throat tightened. "Choose what?"

Alara stepped back, raising her arms slowly. The trees parted behind her, revealing a new path - one none of them had seen before. The moss shimmered, and the earth vibrated faintly under their feet.

"There is a grove," she said. "Deep in the island’s heart. The beginning began there. And what you’ve awakened... must be brought to it."

Rose’s eyes narrowed slightly. "What is it we’ve awakened?"

Alara’s smile was serene. "Creation."

Lucy’s hand found Jude’s. "You mean... life?"

Alara didn’t answer with words. Instead, she stepped back, turned, and disappeared down the glowing path. The moss swallowed her footsteps like mist.

Silence fell again, thick and trembling.

Zoey looked at Jude. "Well?"

He exhaled. "We follow."

They didn’t speak. They didn’t need to. One by one, the wives moved toward him, toward the path. Grace with her sea-drenched hair. Stella still glowing from the touch of strangers. Emma, her hands trembling slightly, but her chin raised. Sophie, quiet but resolute. Scarlet, who had danced naked in the surf only moments ago. Natalie, her steps light as wind. Susan, her fingers trailing through the moss as she walked. Zoey, ever wild, ever sharp.

They gathered behind him, forming a circle again - like they always did.

Jude took a breath, then stepped onto the path.

The island shivered.

The forest deepened.

They walked.

Time blurred. The trees grew taller, older. The moss grew thicker, rising like mist around their ankles. The air was heavy with scent - honey, sweat, earth, and flowers that had no name. Around them, the jungle breathed in time with their footsteps.

And then they saw it.

The grove.

Circular.

Open to the sky.

In the center stood a pool, clear and still. Not dark like the heartstone pool - this one shimmered like molten gold. Flowers bloomed along the rim in colors that shifted with each breath.

Alara stood beside it, her hands folded.

She looked at Jude, then at the wives.

"This is the Source," she said. "Place your pulse here."

Jude hesitated. "What will it do?"

Alara stepped aside. "Show you everything."

Lucy touched his arm. "We’re with you."

He stepped forward, the golden water warming the air around his skin. He knelt slowly, then reached out and placed his hand flat against the surface.

It rippled outward in perfect circles.

And then - visions.

A rush of them. Faster than breath. Softer than touch.

He saw the beginning of the island. Not in years. In desire. In union. He saw the first dreamers - not human, not creature - spirits of pleasure, of warmth, of love. They had merged, melted, become form. The island was their body.