Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women
Chapter 1718

Chapter 1718: Chapter 1718

Sophie’s back was to him, the wind tossing her dark curls around her bare shoulders. She wore nothing but a wrap of palm leaves across her chest, her legs long and bare, skin painted silver beneath the moonlight. She didn’t turn when he approached, but he knew she had heard him. She always did.

"I couldn’t sleep," he said, stopping just beside her.

"Neither could I," she replied softly.

For a moment, they just stood there, listening to the sea’s ancient lullaby.

Then she turned to him, and he saw the shadows in her eyes - not fear, not doubt, but weight. She was thinking. Feeling. Her hand lifted and rested gently against his chest, over his heart. "We’ve changed everything," she whispered. "I don’t even remember who I was before the island."

Jude covered her hand with his. "You were brave. You were fierce. You still are."

She looked up at him. "But now I’m also... part of this. Part of something I can’t control."

"You don’t have to control it," he said. "We just have to move with it. Trust it. Trust each other."

Her lips parted, and her breath caught. "Do you still see me?" she asked. "Not as part of them. Just me?"

He stepped closer, his hands rising to cup her face. "Always."

The kiss she gave him wasn’t hesitant. It was deep. Searching. Her body melted into his, warm and trembling. She wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him closer, her breath hot against his skin. The heat between them flared fast, drawn from longing and something older - something made of memory and need. He lifted her in one motion, her legs curling around his waist, and carried her toward the stone outcropping that overlooked the ocean.

There, he laid her down, the stone cool beneath her back. The stars swirled above them. Her eyes stayed locked on his as he moved over her, as he tasted her lips again, her neck, her collarbone, the rise of her breasts. She sighed his name, fingers gripping his back, pulling him down to her.

Jude slid into her slowly, reverently, and the moment their bodies joined, the air shifted.

The sea grew louder.

The wind calmed.

The island watched.

They moved together with an intensity that wasn’t frantic but full - every breath, every thrust, every moan wrapped in purpose. Sophie’s legs tightened around him, her hands tangling in his hair as her hips lifted to meet each movement. Her mouth found his again and again, her moans swallowed between kisses. She wasn’t just giving herself to him. She was claiming him. Grounding him.

He felt the moment she came - her body arching, voice breaking on his name, tears pricking the corners of her eyes. He held her through it, whispering against her cheek, and only when her trembling had eased did he let himself fall with her, his release drawn out by her touch, her breath, her love.

They lay tangled together, breathless, staring up at the moon. She didn’t let go of him. Not for a long time.

When they finally returned to the valley, the others were still asleep, curled in soft pairs and clusters. Jude and Sophie didn’t speak. They just slipped back into the circle and curled close.

But someone had seen them.

Rose.

She lay awake with her head resting on Lucy’s thigh, golden eyes watching them through the dark.

She smiled softly.

And closed her eyes again.

When dawn came, the warmth of sunlight filtered gently over the valley. Birds trilled above in the high canopies, and butterflies drifted like confetti through the air. The others stirred slowly, yawns and stretches rippling through the circle. Emma was the first to speak.

"I dreamed of a mountain made of glass."

Zoey rolled onto her side. "I dreamed of giving birth."

Grace blinked sleep from her eyes. "I dreamed I could fly."

Lucy curled into Jude’s chest. "We’re dreaming the future."

Stella sat up and looked around. "Then what are we supposed to do with it?"

They were interrupted by the scent of smoke - not fire, not danger, but warmth. A curl of smoke rose from a small pit that hadn’t been there before, at the far edge of the valley. They rose as one, drawn to it, hearts thudding.

Natalie knelt beside it first, brushing her hand through the ash.

A message.

Written in delicate lines of charcoal and pollen, curling words in a language they didn’t know - but understood all the same.

You are ready.

Jude knelt beside it, tracing the words with a fingertip.

Sophie looked at him. "Ready for what?"

Before he could answer, a figure emerged from the trees.

Not Alara.

Someone else.

She was tall and bare-skinned, her body painted with golden spirals, her hair falling in thick coils. Her eyes were white with no pupils, yet they seemed to see everything. She held no weapon. She wore no crown.

She carried a bowl of water glowing blue.

She stopped before them and spoke in a language none of them knew, yet every word translated inside them like thought.

"The seed is strong. But now the soil must be tested."

Jude stepped forward. "Who are you?"

"I am Amah," she said. "Daughter of the first. Guardian of the path."

Rose stood. "Path to what?"

Amah smiled faintly. "The mountain. The storm. The breath. The core."

Lucy stepped beside Jude. "The source?"

"Yes."

Amah lifted the bowl and poured the water onto the ground. Where it touched, the soil opened like a mouth, revealing a small orb of brilliant light.

"This is your next calling," Amah whispered. "Each of you must touch it. And when you do, you will see your piece. The gift. The burden."

She held it out.

One by one, they approached.

Grace first. Then Zoey. Then Stella. Emma. Natalie. Lucy. Susan. Scarlet. Layla. Rose. Sophie.

Each touched it.

Each cried out softly - some in wonder, some in pain.

And last was Jude.

When he touched it, the world cracked.