They gathered in a circle, not to repeat the ritual, but to listen. The tree sang now, a deep, slow melody they all felt in their bones.
Scarlet, who rarely spoke, looked up and whispered, "We've created something sacred."
That evening, they danced.
Naked, glowing, humming.
They danced around the tree, through the grove, across each other's bodies. Not in ceremony. In joy. Hands brushed skin, lips met spines, breasts pressed against chests, hips rocked gently in rhythm with the song.
They weren't twelve women and one man anymore.
They were one.
The first night of the new circle passed in bliss.
And when Jude finally slept, with Lucy wrapped around his waist and Sophie draped across his chest, he dreamed again.
This time, there were children.
Running through the grove.
Their laughter echoed with the same melody as the tree.
He woke with tears in his eyes.
And knew…
They had begun.
