The air in the gazebo was heavy, not just with the scent of their union, but with a new, vibrating frequency. The bond wasn't just a mark on Anita's skin; it was a living bridge. For the first time since waking up in this world, the "floating" feeling Anita had described was gone. She was anchored—not just to the ground, but to the soul of the man holding her.
Gotti finally pulled back, his eyes searching hers. The molten gold had settled into a steady, glowing amber. He looked younger, the lines of stress around his eyes momentarily smoothed by the sheer relief of the claim.
"You're glowing," he whispered, his thumb grazing the silver crescent on her shoulder.
"It's the bond," Anita replied, her voice still a bit shaky. "I can feel you, Gotti. Your heart... it's so loud."
