Chapter 72

Aisha's POV The sun filtered through the battered trees of Harold's territory, painting golden slivers over a land that had seen too much blood. Yet, beneath the fractured sky, life was beginning to pulse again. I stood beside Simon, watching as the once-hollow grounds began to stir with activity. Wolves who had once limped with despair were now walking with purpose. Children ran barefoot across the mended courtyard, their laughter chasing away the lingering echoes of war. We had done it. "You think they'll be okay?" I asked, arms folded as I surveyed the grounds. He stood close, his shoulder brushing against mine. "They're stronger than they know. They just needed someone to believe in them." I turned to him, a gentle smile tugging at my lips. "You're getting good at this whole ‘hope' thing." He smirked. "Don't get used to it." Harold was seated on a bench not far from us, the sun catching in his hair. He looked better—his skin no longer sallow, his voice no longer shaky. His mate sto