Their lips had already claimed me a hundred times, and by now my mind was mush. I didn't know how long they had been kissing me—long enough for my lips to feel numb, like I'd just spent an hour in the freezing cold, except instead of cold, there was nothing but heat. The heat of their bodies pressed against mine, the scent of sweat and smoke clinging to their skin, the faint taste of wild berries lingering on their lips.
Finally, as if they'd decided I'd been properly kissed into submission, they pulled back. The spearwoman smiled as if she'd won some unspoken battle. The dagger-wielder smirked like she had claimed a prize. The archer tilted her head and let out a satisfied hum, her golden bangles softly clinking as she pulled away.
The three of them stood together and turned their attention to the fallen wolves. Without a word, they began the work of skinning the carcasses, their movements swift and efficient.
The spearwoman knelt, slicing open one of the wolves with a stone blade, pulling the hide away in smooth, practiced motions. The dagger-wielder worked on another, her toned arms flexing as she cut through sinew and bone. The archer handled the smaller kills, stripping away the fur with surprising precision, her delicate-looking hands not at all afraid of blood.
They didn't hesitate, didn't falter—every movement told me they'd done this countless times before. These weren't just three pretty faces. They were hunters. Survivors. Warriors.
Soon, a fire was built from gathered wood, the hides laid out to dry on nearby rocks. The meat sizzled over the flames, the savory scent filling the jungle air. I sat nearby, my back against a log, still trying to process what had happened since I woke up on this island.
The spearwoman tore off a piece of roasted meat and brought it to me. Her sharp blue eyes fixed on mine, her tone leaving no room for argument. "Eat."
I wasn't in any position to decline. My stomach growled in agreement, so I took it and bit down. The meat was tough but flavorful, rich with the smoky taste of the fire. I chewed slowly, my hunger making me forget the strangeness of the situation.
One by one, they each offered me food, and I ate until I could feel warmth spreading through my chest. It wasn't just from the fire—it was from the fact that, for the first time since arriving here, I wasn't alone.
When we finished eating, they didn't give me time to rest. The dagger-wielder reached for my arm and tugged me up with ease. Her grip was firm, almost possessive. The spearwoman moved to my other side, resting her hand lightly on my shoulder as if she were making sure I wouldn't wander off. The archer walked behind me, her eyes scanning the jungle like a watchful guard.
I quickly realized I wasn't being escorted—I was being taken.
We walked through the jungle for what felt like an hour, the light gradually dimming as the sun dipped toward the horizon. Eventually, we reached the base of a rocky cliff. There, hidden behind a thick curtain of vines, was the entrance to a cave.
My cave now, apparently. Not that I had a choice in the matter.
Inside, the air was cooler, the walls lined with furs, bones, and primitive tools. The firelight from a small pit near the center cast dancing shadows across the stone. There were dried herbs hanging from the walls, spears stacked in the corner, and pelts spread out as bedding.
The spearwoman gestured toward the largest fur pile, and I didn't need much convincing. I sat down, sinking into the soft, worn material. The girls moved around the cave with practiced ease, storing the meat, setting the hides to dry, and adding wood to the fire.
By the time night had fully fallen, they had joined me on the bed. I thought they might simply sleep beside me, but they had other ideas.
The dagger-wielder curled up on my right, wrapping one arm around my waist and pulling me close. Her thick thighs pressed against my leg, and her warmth seeped into me. The spearwoman took my left, tucking herself under my arm and resting her head against my chest, her golden hair spilling over me like a blanket.
The archer… well, she didn't just lie next to me. She climbed halfway on top of me, straddling my stomach for a moment before lowering herself until her huge, soft breasts completely smothered my face. I muffled a sound of surprise, my voice lost against her skin, and felt her giggle faintly as if she knew exactly what she was doing.
Their arms and legs locked around me, sealing me in place. I wasn't going anywhere—not that I wanted to. It was like being trapped in a jail cell made of warm, beautiful flesh.
I lay there for hours, listening to the steady rhythm of their breathing, the occasional shift of their bodies as they snuggled closer. Sleep didn't come easily. My mind was racing, my heart was pounding, and every time I moved even slightly, I felt them tighten their grip, as if to remind me I belonged to them now.
By the time I finally drifted off, one thought lingered in my mind.
I still didn't know their names.