Chapter 1722

In the still hush of the golden night, Jude stirred, not because he needed rest but because something was calling to him. It wasn't a sound. It wasn't even a whisper. It was a hum, soft and seductive, like the touch of breath against skin. Around him, his lovers slept, tangled in curves and sighs, their bodies half-lit by the glow of the sapling nearby. The flowers on its delicate branches never wilted, never closed. They shimmered faintly, as if breathing with the group.

Jude moved gently, brushing his lips across Lucy's temple before slipping from her embrace. She sighed softly, fingers closing in his absence but not waking. He walked barefoot through the moss, his skin still tingling from the connection earlier. The island vibrated beneath him - alive, eager. He stepped past Emma and Grace, who lay wrapped together like vines, past Sophie and Stella, whose legs had twined in sleep, and toward the sapling.