Jude held Lucy's hand tightly, their fingers still laced. Around them, the wives moved like a tribe reborn - nude, glowing, their skin marked by light pollen from the garden behind them. Each of them carried the scent of the island, and the island itself seemed to recognize them in return. The very ground pulsed beneath their feet, sending heat up through their soles and into their bones.
They followed a path of silver vines that curled ahead, snaking like veins through the forest floor. The vines pulsed with the same rhythm as Jude's heart. He didn't know where they were leading, but his body responded like it had always known.
"It's guiding us to the heart," Rose whispered beside him, her voice rich and calm. "We've awakened the seed. Now she wants to plant us deeper."
Emma brushed her lips along Jude's shoulder, the tip of her tongue catching the curve of his neck. "We are the garden now."