Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women
Chapter 921

Chapter 921: Chapter 921

Jude’s gaze flicked to her. "Open?"

She nodded. "Like it had a doorway. There was light, but not fire. More like stars."

He didn’t say anything for a moment. "Grace dreamed of the watchers. You dreamed of the mountain. I feel like the island’s speaking louder every night."

"Then maybe it’s time we start answering properly."

By the time the rest of the family woke, the plan had formed. Not a full expedition , just a scouting group to the edge of the forest closest to the mountain’s base, where the watchers never crossed and the air always seemed heavier. Jude would go with Grace, Emma, Zoey, and Scarlett , each of them chosen by some natural rhythm that none questioned. The others would remain in the orchard, tending to food, water, and the children. They all understood the importance of balance now , exploring meant grounding too.

Before they left, Lucy pressed a ribbon into Jude’s hand , indigo threaded with gold.

"For luck," she said, standing on her toes to kiss his cheek. "And memory."

Sophie kissed Grace’s hand. "Return before sunset."

"We will," Grace promised.

They set out through the tall grass with packs of dried fruits, nuts, water skins, ribbon, and torches. No weapons. Jude made that clear. "If we go with fire and blades, we look like invaders. That’s not who we are."

Scarlett tied her long braid in a tight knot and adjusted the straps on her pack. "If we die without weapons, you’ll feel very poetic about it, I’m sure."

He grinned. "Very."

They passed the stream, crossed the thicket where vines always grew twisted around fallen trees, and reached the threshold where watchers used to stand before the new peace. Now, as they crossed beyond that invisible boundary, none of the watchers followed. None hovered close. The forest grew quieter, but not dead , just still, like something listening.

Zoey pointed upward. "There," she whispered.

A dozen paces ahead, etched into a tree trunk, was the same symbol from the glyph stone. Not carved, but grown , the bark had shaped itself around the mark like a birth scar. Jude stepped close and touched it. It pulsed with faint heat.

Emma knelt beside the roots. "Another one," she said, pulling aside moss.

The same symbol again. Half-buried.

They marked the area with ribbon and continued. The trees began to change shape here , thicker, broader, leaves tinged with violet at the edges. The air turned denser, the light dimmer. Scarlett muttered under her breath, "Feels like swimming through breath."

But no monsters. No sounds of animals. No sudden watcher flickers. The island was watching, perhaps, but not interrupting.

When they reached the clearing at the forest’s true edge , where wild bramble and twisted rock warned of the mountain’s approach , they stopped.

Beyond lay a swath of blackened earth, circular, like something vast had once burned through and left a perfect ring of ash. Even the mist dared not cross it.

Jude crouched and ran his fingers through the ash. Still warm.

"Something was here," he said.

Grace came beside him. "Or something is here. And it moved."

In the middle of the black ring, like a lone sentinel, stood a twisted stone spire about shoulder-high. The same glyph , larger, clearer , carved into all four sides.

"I’m going in," Jude said.

Zoey reached to stop him, but Grace held up a hand. "Let him."

Jude walked carefully, every step deliberate. Nothing attacked. The earth shifted slightly underfoot, but it wasn’t unstable , just alive. He touched the spire. The glyph flared, just once, a brief pulse of golden light.

And then a whisper filled his ears , not in sound, but in meaning.

"The seal sleeps. The god breaks."

He staggered back.

"Jude?" Emma rushed forward.

He held up a hand. "I heard something."

Scarlett frowned. "Heard what?"

He told them. The words. The voice that wasn’t a voice.

Zoey exhaled. "The gods. Again."

Grace looked toward the mountain, where clouds always circled. "If that mountain is a prison..."

"Or a temple," Jude added, "and the seal is weakening..."

Scarlett kicked at the ash. "What does that make us?"

Jude turned back to the spire. "Witnesses. Or the next part."

They didn’t linger. They marked the ring with three stones and retreated as mist began to thicken, curling up from the ground like breath. When they crossed the old watcher boundary again, the air grew lighter. Birds chirped. Something howled in the distance, but far, far away.

They returned by sunset. The others greeted them with relief, and the children ran into their arms.

"What did you find?" Lucy asked.

Jude sat near the fire and unfolded the cloth-wrapped glyph stone again. "More signs. And this."

He set down a piece of bark , freshly carved with the same glyph.

Grace added quietly, "The mountain holds something. And it’s waking up."

The group sat in silence, absorbing that.

"We’re not going tomorrow," Jude said. "Or the next day. We prepare. Slowly. We listen."

That night, the watchers came closer. One even crossed into the orchard edge, not aggressive, just there , glowing faint blue. Laurel, sleepy-eyed, waved to it.

The watcher did not wave back. But it lingered long after she fell asleep.

In the quiet, after children slept and the fire burned low, Grace climbed into Jude’s lap beneath the fig-glyph tree.

"You’re scared," she whispered, brushing a lock of hair from his brow.

"Yes," he said.

"But you’re ready."

"Not yet," he admitted. "But I will be. With you."

She kissed him then, slow and deep, anchoring him. His hands found the curve of her back, the familiar path of her body.

She whispered, lips against his ear, "Whatever comes from that mountain... we’ll meet it together."

His arms tightened around her. "We always do."

In the canopy above, the watchers flickered like constellations. And somewhere beneath the earth, something stirred. Something vast. Something ancient.

But for tonight, there was only breath, and heartbeat, and the soft rustle of leaves whispering their promise.