Jude blinked as the golden hue receded slowly from his irises, pulsing once more before dimming to their natural shade. But something had changed—he felt it in the marrow of his bones, in the breath that filled his lungs, in the way the air touched his skin. Around him, the twelve women were rising, drawing closer, their bodies still glowing faintly from the union they had just shared. No words passed between them, yet every glance was a conversation, every touch an echo of something far deeper than speech. Sophie's hand brushed against his chest, and though she didn't say a word, he felt her thought: *You're not just ours anymore. You're the island's now.*