They all moved at once, an instinct passing between them like a ripple on water. They began to transform the grove. The shelters were reinforced with roots that came when Rose whispered to them. Stones shifted with Natalie's touch. Grace called vines with a song only she could hum. Jude worked silently with his hands, Emma at his side, sweat slicking their bodies as they lifted logs and wove the floor of their sacred home.
By nightfall, the grove had changed again. It was no longer a collection of makeshift dwellings. It was a sanctuary. A living place of worship and rest. A cradle for the life growing within them.
That night, they didn't lie apart.
They gathered at the base of the tree, forming a circle with Jude at the center. The hum returned - low and erotic, pulsing through the roots into their bones.
