Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women

The music of the forest didn't stop - it swelled, layered and alive, like thousands of unseen voices humming the same sacred tune. The second sun rose slowly, trailing soft streaks of pale gold and silver across the sky, and its light didn't blind. It illuminated. Jude lay there in the center of his circle, surrounded by the women whose souls had fused with his, their skin still warm, their bodies pressed against him in tangled grace. The air itself shimmered around them like heat off stone, but it wasn't heat - it was the pulse of the island's approval.

Rose was the first to sit up. Her hair clung to her shoulders, damp with sweat and light. Her body glowed in soft gradients of peach and amber, a shifting aura that wrapped around her like breath. She looked to the second sun, her lips parting. "It's still rising."

Lucy stirred against Jude's chest, her fingers splayed across his heart. "I can feel it moving through me. Not just light. Something deeper. Something from before."

Stella rubbed her eyes and sat beside them, blinking upward. "Is it… a portal?"

"No," said Emma softly, brushing her hair back, "It's an eye."

Jude turned to her. "What do you mean?"

"It's looking at us," she said. "Seeing us for the first time. Not as guests, not as dreamers - but as something more."

The others slowly roused, drawn upright by the weight of the moment. No one spoke for a long time. They simply stared up at the soft glow of the second sun, letting it pass through them. The island had changed, again. Or perhaps it had revealed more of what it already was. The lines between spirit and flesh, between earth and soul, were now so blurred that nothing could be untangled.

Zoey stood up and stretched, then cracked a grin. "So, what? Do we get wings next? Powers? Immortality?"

Susan smirked at her. "You already glow in the dark. What more do you want?"

"Flying orgasms?" Zoey offered, winking at Jude. "I think we earned at least that."

Rose laughed softly but didn't turn away from the sun. "We haven't unlocked powers. We've been… invited."

"Into what?" Grace asked, standing behind Jude now, her hands gently resting on his shoulders.

Rose looked back at them all, her expression almost solemn. "A choice."

The silver-blue crystal that had floated above the heartstone now hovered again, but lower, right at Jude's eye level. It pulsed in rhythm with his breath. Not fast. Not slow. Just present. Steady.

Sophie stepped forward. "It's waiting for something."

"No," said Natalie, voice low and clear. "It's asking."

The forest hushed again. The birds didn't sing. The wind didn't move. Even the shimmer in the air paused, as if the entire island leaned in.

Jude rose slowly, naked and golden, and stepped toward the crystal. The moment he did, the light surrounded him again - warm, encompassing, infinite. He looked back at his wives. "I think I have to speak."

Rose nodded. "But don't speak with your mouth. Speak with your truth."

Jude placed a hand on his chest, over his heart, and closed his eyes. The words didn't come from language. They came from memory. From flesh. From love. He didn't think. He remembered.

He remembered Susan's laugh.

Emma's quiet wonder.

Stella's fire.

Sophie's resistance and aching softness.

Zoey's mischief and wild spirit.

Grace's endless tenderness.

Natalie's courage.

Scarlet's silence, heavy and deep and knowing.

Lucy's passion and fury and need.

Rose's mystery.

And the way all of them looked at him - like he wasn't just a man, but a world. And how he looked at them, like they were the only gods he ever needed.

That was his truth.

And when the truth passed through him into the crystal, it pulsed once, twice - then shattered into dust.

No pain. No sound. Just light.

The dust spiraled up, streaming into the sky like stardust, and the second sun opened. Not like a flower. Like a window.

Inside was not a place.

It was another world.

Floating islands. Glimmering oceans. Trees with violet leaves. Skies with three moons.

The women gasped.

Scarlet stepped forward, jaw slack. "It's a vision."

"No," said Rose. "It's an invitation."

Zoey grinned. "Okay, now I'm in. Flying orgasms are totally on the table."

Lucy laughed and nudged her with her hip. "We don't know what's on the other side."

"But it wants us," said Stella, her voice soft. "It sees us. And it wants us."

Jude looked at the window in the sky, then back at the island, their home. The moss, the trees, the flowers still breathing beneath them.

He turned to his wives. "We can stay. Or we can go."

"Do we have to choose now?" Sophie asked.

Rose answered, her voice almost a whisper. "No. But the door won't always be open."

They stood together for a long time, watching the sky breathe.

Eventually, they returned to the camp - not out of retreat, but reflection. They needed to feel the moss again. Taste the fruit. Hear the river. Lay in the homes they had built with their own hands and hearts.

That night, they didn't gather for ritual or passion.

They simply held each other.

Naked under the stars.

Jude between Lucy and Emma. Susan curled around Grace. Scarlet at Zoey's back, her breath soft against her neck. Rose, as always, near the fire, watching the sky. Thinking.

The second sun hovered there, a silver eye, silent now but constant. Waiting.

And as sleep slowly took them, the island sang its song.

Not of temptation.

Not of power.

But of becoming.

They woke together, as if their dreams had braided into a single thread that pulled them gently into morning. The air was different again - not just warm or golden, but thick with expectation. The kind that settled in the bones. The kind that made skin tingle before touch. Jude opened his eyes to find Lucy watching him, her fingers tracing invisible patterns over his chest, her breath soft and close.