Jude's breath caught. He didn't know how he knew, but he knew. If the heartstone had been the spark, the womb of the island was the source. And it was calling to him.
"I need to go," he said.
Rose met his gaze. "Not alone."
Lucy smiled, stepping closer, brushing his lips with hers. "Never alone."
That afternoon, they gathered again, the twelve women surrounding Jude beneath the canopy of the forest where the golden light had first descended. They stood in a loose circle, hands brushing, bare skin gleaming with pollen and sweat, their bodies still humming from the night before. The air was thick with anticipation.
"Something's moving under us," Natalie said quietly. "Like the earth's about to split open."
Grace tilted her head, her braid swinging softly. "Not in violence. In birth."
Zoey laughed, low and sensual. "So this is what it feels like to be gods."
