Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women

Chapter 1745: Chapter 1745

Jude came again and again, with Lucy, with Rose, with Stella. With Sophie later, who slid atop him and kissed his mouth like she was claiming her place again. With Emma, who whispered, "I still don’t understand," and he answered with his body. With Susan, who trembled in his arms. With Grace and Natalie at once, their mouths trading kisses above his chest as they took him together, riding in perfect synch.

The stars above them burned brighter.

By the time it ended - if it ended - they lay in a single, tangled mass. Bodies spent, breath mingling. The night had deepened to violet, and golden mist hung in the air, clinging to their skin like a second glow.

Jude couldn’t move. He didn’t need to. They were all pressed to him - limbs draped, arms entwined, fingers tangled. He was inside the circle. No longer just the center.

He was part of it.

Zoey’s voice broke the silence. "What if we never leave this place?"

No one answered.

Because no one wanted to.

The stars above them shifted again, forming a new symbol. A blooming tree.

Then, beneath the earth, the heartbeat began again - deeper, slower, like a promise.

Jude closed his eyes.

And the island dreamed with them.

The rhythm of the earth had changed. Jude felt it in the way the moss seemed to breathe beneath him, rising and falling with each exhale like the whole forest had taken their shared climax as fuel. Golden mist still hovered in the air, curling along limbs and hair and the curves of hips tangled in the aftermath of desire. The women were silent now, not from exhaustion, but reverence, each of them pressed to him or to one another, as if reluctant to move, to end the moment. Rose was curled against his right, her hand resting on his chest, fingers splayed over the center of his glow. Lucy lay on his left, eyes open, watching him without a word, her expression soft with something deeper than lust. Sophie was at his feet, one hand on his ankle like a tether, like she still didn’t want to be far. Stella and Zoey lay together beside them, limbs draped across one another, their breathing synced. Grace and Natalie were spooned near the roots of the sanctuary tree, their golden skin marked by petals that hadn’t been there before. Susan was sitting cross-legged near the edge of the light, her gaze thoughtful, like she was listening to something none of them could yet hear. Scarlet and Emma, always the quiet ones after, were side by side, hands clasped, watching the sky above.

Jude rose slowly, careful not to disturb the fragile web of connection still humming between them. He stepped barefoot out into the mist, toward the open edge of the sanctuary. The vines pulled back for him, like welcoming a familiar pulse, and the wind shifted - warm, slow, like breath across the skin. Behind him, he heard movement, the soft rustle of bodies waking again. Lucy was the first to join him, silent and glowing, her fingers slipping into his without question. Rose followed, arms folded loosely, a small smile on her lips. One by one, they gathered. No one asked what came next. They all felt it.

Jude looked to the sky. The blooming tree symbol still lingered among the stars, but now it had begun to change - its roots stretching downward, its branches wrapping into a spiral. A symbol of something growing. Something deeper.

Then a sound echoed through the forest - not the deep tone of before, not the island’s call. This was lighter. A trill. A song.

They turned toward it.

The trees parted ahead.

A pathway had formed - not of earth or moss or vine, but of light. Golden and translucent, stretching through the forest like a thread waiting to be followed. It led toward the cliffs, the ocean’s roar louder now than it had ever been. Not wild. Not dangerous.

Calling.

"We follow," Rose said.

Jude nodded. "Together."

They moved as one.

Naked still, glowing still, the mist clinging to their bodies like silk. The forest shifted to accommodate them, flowers blooming with each step, vines curling to form arches above. No threat lingered. No beasts stirred. The island was no longer testing. It was guiding.

They walked for what felt like hours, but time had lost meaning. The light path twisted once, then straightened toward the edge of the cliffs.

And there, waiting where the earth dropped into sea, stood Alara.

She was as she had been before - tall, radiant, draped in hair and flowers, her bare skin glowing with more than light. She smiled when she saw them and gestured to the horizon.

Behind her, the sea had changed.

It was golden now.

Not just reflecting the sky.

It was the sky.

Waves of light moved with hypnotic grace, and floating above it - miles out - was a massive shape. A dome? A temple? It pulsed with the same energy that had once come from the heartstone, but it was larger. Living.

Jude stepped forward.

"What is it?" he asked. noveldrama

Alara’s voice was music. "It is the heart of the island."

He stared at it. "I thought the stone was."

"It was a key," she said. "You opened it. Now you are invited in."

Grace reached for Jude’s hand. "How do we get there?"

Alara extended her arms.

And the sea split.

Not in violence, not in power. In grace. A winding golden path rose from the water, formed of crystal and foam, curving gently toward the temple.

Stella gasped. "We’re meant to walk across it."

"Yes," Alara said. "But not all of you."

They froze.

Emma stepped forward. "Why not?"

Alara looked at Jude. "Because not all are needed there. The island calls for the root. The pulse. And those who anchor it."

Rose turned to the others. "It means him."

"And us," Lucy said, not as a question, but a knowing.

Sophie stepped closer, touching Jude’s arm. "We’ve been part of every awakening."

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