Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women
Chapter 860 - 862

Chapter 860: Chapter 862

The morning air was salty and cool as Jude made his way down the winding trail that led to the beach. The scent of the ocean was always comforting, grounding in a way nothing else on the island was. Birds sang overhead, and the sound of waves crashing gently against the jagged rocks filled the space between his thoughts.

Emma walked beside him, her long hair tied up in a messy knot, a net slung over one shoulder and a woven basket swinging in her hand. She had insisted on coming with him, citing boredom and a desire to "do something useful," but her tone had been more playful than practical.

"You know," Emma said, nudging him with her shoulder, "when I imagined living on an island, I thought it would involve more lounging under palm trees with a drink in my hand and less... hauling fish traps."

Jude smirked. "You want a drink, I’ll ferment some fruit for you."

"Don’t tease me, I’ll hold you to that," she said with a wink. "Though I’d rather sip it while watching you do all the work."

"Sounds about right," he chuckled.

As they reached the beach, the tide was beginning to recede, revealing lines of seaweed and small pools of trapped crabs skittering across wet sand. Jude dropped the bundle of nets and moved toward the rocks where he had anchored the fish traps the day before.

Emma leaned against a large piece of driftwood, her eyes following him with quiet amusement.

"You know," she said, "if you were just a little dumber, I think I’d keep you as a house pet."

Jude laughed without looking back. "And here I thought I was already the island’s favorite house husband."

Emma sighed dramatically. "Not mine, not yet. You’re still on trial."

"I’ve fathered how many children for you?" he called over his shoulder.

"Details," she said with a smirk.

He pulled the first trap up from the water, the wooden frame slick with seaweed and packed with wriggling fish. He dumped the contents into the basket Emma held out. Her fingers brushed his, lingering.

Then something shifted.

Her eyes softened, her lips parting as if she was about to say something... but didn’t. Instead, she stepped closer. A lot closer. The playfulness in her tone melted into something older, something deeper. Her movements slowed, became deliberate.

"You know, Jude," she said, voice low, "I’ve watched you for years now."

He glanced at her, still crouched, suddenly aware of the change. "Have you."

"I used to think you were lucky," she continued, brushing a wet strand of hair behind her ear, "surviving here. Getting chosen by all of us. But now I think... maybe we’re the lucky ones."

Her fingers touched his jaw gently, guiding his gaze to hers. There was a strange hunger in her eyes, a desperation masked behind her usual teasing exterior.

"I want you," she whispered. "Not just as a husband. As mine. All mine. You understand that, don’t you?"

Jude stood slowly, his heart beating faster. Something was wrong. This wasn’t Emma, not really. It was her voice, her body, her way of speaking, but it wasn’t her spirit. Emma flirted, joked, pushed boundaries, but she never demanded. Never cornered him like this. Never looked at him like he was prey.

"Emma," he said softly. "Are you feeling okay?"

She blinked. Her hands dropped.

"What?"

"You were saying some strange things just now," he said carefully.

Emma stepped back, confusion washing over her face. She looked around, as if just realizing where they were. "I... I don’t remember. We were joking, right? You were pulling up the traps and I, what did I say?"

Jude didn’t answer right away. He glanced at her, searching her face for signs of deceit, but found only genuine bewilderment.

"Nothing important," he said eventually, picking up the net again. "Let’s finish gathering."

Emma looked over her shoulder more than once on the walk back.

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, the island settled into its quiet rhythm once again. Jude moved through the camp, carrying the basket of fish while the others prepared for dinner. Scarlett was tending the fire pit. Zoey and Stella were slicing fruit. Sophie and Susan were arguing over whether or not the stew needed more salt. Everything looked normal. It felt normal.

But Jude couldn’t shake it.

The things Emma had said weren’t just words. They felt like something else had crawled into her skin, something that knew how to speak like her, move like her, but wasn’t her.

And it wasn’t just Emma.

All of them had changed, one by one. Each of his wives. Lucy that morning. Grace yesterday. Sophie, Natalie, Scarlett. All of them had a moment. A brief blank-out where something primal took over, something seductive and consuming. And then they forgot. They all forgot.

At first it had felt like a fluke, an odd coincidence or a mood swing. But now... he couldn’t deny the pattern. It was too precise. Too unnatural.

Dinner passed with laughter and teasing. The kind of warmth only long years of shared survival could create. They passed plates, stole bites from each other, told old stories, repeated jokes that weren’t funny the first time. Everything looked fine.

But Jude couldn’t relax. Not tonight.

When the fire had burned low and most of the dishes were set aside, he stood slowly. All eyes turned toward him. There was a heaviness in the air, like the island itself had paused to listen.

"I want to ask you all something," he said.

The chatter died completely. A few exchanged glances.

"Have any of you... had moments lately where you felt like something was off?" Jude asked. "Like you were there one second, and the next you weren’t? Like you said something or did something and then... you forgot it happened?"

The silence was thick.

Stella furrowed her brow. "What kind of things?"

"Anything," Jude said. "Maybe you talked to me and don’t remember. Maybe you felt strange, then it passed. Anything like that."

He looked at each of them.

Susan looked down. Grace bit her lip. Emma paled slightly. Scarlett shifted in her seat. Lucy stared at the fire like she was trying to remember something just out of reach.

Zoey glanced around the circle, her voice barely above a whisper. "You’ve noticed it too?"

Jude nodded.

Then all of them began glancing at each other. Some reached for each other’s hands. A ripple of unease moved through the group like a wave. No one spoke. No one denied it. But no one knew what it meant.

A gust of wind passed through the campfire, scattering embers into the night.

Jude watched their faces in the flickering light.

Fear. Uncertainty. And something else. Something deeper.

They knew.

Even if they didn’t know what it was, they all felt it now.

Something was wrong.

And it was only just beginning.