Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women
Chapter 882 - 884

Chapter 882: Chapter 884

Jude stood suddenly. The motion startled a few of them.

"I need to walk," he said. "I need to think."

No one tried to stop him.

He left the camp and entered the forest, not on a path but through the thick ferns and undergrowth, letting his body guide him. He needed distance. The trees towered above him, ancient and still. The sound of insects buzzed low, and occasionally, a branch cracked underfoot. The deeper he went, the colder the air felt, as though the island itself were reacting to his presence, watching.

After a long while, he reached a small clearing near the edge of the cliffs. From here, he could see the ocean, endless and gray, stretching beyond the shell’s curve. He sat on a rock and stared out at it, breathing slowly.

He didn’t hear the footsteps behind him until Emma sat beside him, her presence warm but quiet.

"I didn’t follow you," she said. "I just ended up here."

Jude didn’t look at her right away. "You’ve been different too."

"I know."

"You kissed me yesterday like someone else was inside you."

Emma folded her hands in her lap. "It felt like a dream. I remember the warmth, the hunger, the certainty that you were mine. But when I woke up, I couldn’t hold on to the feeling. It’s like trying to remember a dream you had as a child."

Jude finally looked at her. "Does it scare you?"

Emma was quiet for a moment. "Yes. But also no. Because I know whatever it is... it’s drawn to you."

"Me?"

"You’re the anchor. The center of this place. We’re all tied to you."

He turned away. "I didn’t ask for that."

Emma smiled gently. "It doesn’t matter. You became it. Through love. Through loss. Through everything you did to protect us. Maybe that’s why it chose you."

Jude stood. "If it chose me, then I’ll find it. And I’ll stop it."

Emma reached for his hand. "Be careful. Not everything that loves you wants to destroy you. Some things... want to become you."

He didn’t respond. He simply turned and made his way back through the forest.

When he returned to camp, the sun was high. Everyone was busying themselves with chores, cleaning tools, preparing food, tending the gardens. It looked normal. Ordinary. But Jude knew now that nothing about this place was ordinary. The island wasn’t just a home. It was alive. It was watching. And it was evolving.

That evening, they gathered around the fire again. There was no dinner. No music. Just silence and tension like a wound waiting to reopen.

Jude stepped forward.

"I need to ask something," he said. "And I need you all to answer honestly."

Twelve pairs of eyes turned to him.

"When it happens, when the smoke comes, do any of you feel like you want it to happen again?"

The air left the space like a drawn breath.

Sophie looked down. Lucy’s lips pressed into a line. Zoey shifted uncomfortably.

Amelia whispered, "Sometimes... yes."

One by one, they confessed. Some quietly. Some with shame. Some with curiosity. The truth spilled out like cracks in a dam, each of them had felt it, not just the confusion, but the longing. The desire to be touched by whatever it was. The warmth. The certainty. The sense that all fear, all doubt, all pain had vanished.

Jude listened. His heart broke a little with each word. Because he understood.

And then Stella said something that chilled him more than anything else.

"It’s not just inside us anymore," she said. "I saw it this morning. Just for a second. Not smoke. A shape. Standing near the arch where the stones meet the jungle."

Jude’s pulse quickened. "What kind of shape?"

"Like a person. Watching."

No one spoke.

"We can’t stay silent anymore," Jude said. "Tomorrow, we go to the arch. Together. We face whatever’s there."

"Is that safe?" Serena asked.

"Nothing is safe anymore."

They nodded, one by one, slowly, until all of them had agreed.

That night, they didn’t sleep.

And at the edge of the jungle, something waited. Watching. Learning. Ready.

The morning light trickled slowly through the canopy, golden and hazy, barely warming the air beneath the thick leaves. Jude stood by the tree line, eyes fixed on the narrow path that led to the arch Stella had spoken about. The jungle beyond it was dense and twisted, darker than it should have been even in the early light. Behind him, the camp was quiet, unnervingly so. His wives were awake, moving through their routines with a hollow rhythm, feeding the chickens, checking the garden traps, sharpening tools, but their movements lacked the casual chatter, the shared laughter that once filled the space like music. The tension from last night’s confession still hung heavy, stretching thin over the camp like a web of nerves.

He hadn’t slept. None of them had. Jude spent the hours pacing, watching the stars, listening to the sounds of the island. Twice, he’d thought he heard footsteps near the edge of the trees, but each time when he went to look, nothing was there. The air had carried something strange all night, an electric hush, like the pause before thunder. It was the kind of silence that didn’t feel empty. It felt expectant. Like something was waiting for them to make the first move.

Grace joined him first. She came up beside him without speaking, carrying a spear she had carved and fire-hardened herself. Her expression was hard, unreadable. A small strand of her silver-blonde hair had come loose from the tie, and the way she pushed it back told him everything, she was nervous, but steady. Her strength had always been like stone. Quiet, immovable.

"I’m going with you," she said.

Jude nodded. "I figured you would."

"I don’t like this thing watching us."

"I don’t think it watches. I think it listens."

She frowned. "Worse."

Behind them, Emma and Lucy emerged next, followed by Stella and Sophie.