11. Capture His Heart #3
“Yarrow is giving Lovel a chance to impress Damien and the court. They obviously have some arrangement for this.” Johnathan looked apologetic. “Sorry, I didn’t think that much when I hired them.”
“Well, let them impress. If a song can sway Damien’s heart, then that’s not true love anyway.” At this point, I almost hoped that Lovel would succeed. I didn’t want Leif to be embroiled in any of this.
I had to admit, though, that this Lovel really knew how to appeal to a southern alpha with his submissive yet seductive charm. His singing and playing were good, but again, too soft and sophisticated for my taste.
He kept sending meaningful gazes in Damien’s direction. His long, lithe legs moved nimbly with the rhythm, as his flimsy gown flowed in the wind.
When he finished his performance, many of the alphas were practically drooling over him.
Damien looked impressed and charmed, but I couldn’t tell how much of it was performance.
But then, that little Eclipse shit decided to do something bitchy.
“Why don’t you sing us some of the northern songs? I’ve been very curious,” Lovel said loudly, smiling sweeter than syrup at my Leif.
All eyes focused on Leif, and my brother was definitely not used to this kind of attention. His face was redder than a fresh apple.
Albeit having a nice voice, Leif was never a good singer. He also had stage fright. Every time he had to perform publicly in his duties as the omega son of the jarl, I would spend hours, even days, preparing him for it.
“I ... I’m not good at singing ...” Leif stammered.
Yet Lovel wasn’t about to let go of the chance to publicly humiliate my brother, who had stolen Damien’s attention from him. He continued to insist, with his angelic yet fake smile, “Oh, come on, you are too humble. I’m sure Winterthrope also teaches music to omegas, right?”
“I ...” Leif began to panic.
Damien said, in a calm yet definitive voice, “If Leif doesn’t want to sing, then he won’t.”
That seemed to put Lovel in his place. However, before I could relax, Damien’s sister, Cassandra, suddenly said, “Oh, come on, Damien. Don’t be such a party pooper. I’m sure even the northern clans aren’t completely oblivious to the beauty of music. If you can’t sing, then maybe do a dance?”
As though echoing her words, several other alphas in her companion group began to make a ruckus.
“Yeah! A dance!”
“Come on! Don’t be shy!”
“We won’t laugh!”
I hadn’t expected Cassandra to suddenly give Leif a hard time. I hadn’t even gotten a chance to talk to her. What was her problem?
Damien’s posture shifted slightly. He sat straighter, no longer relaxed, clearly adopting an alpha-facing-off stance. “Don’t be a bully, Cassandra,” he said.
“What? I just thought the northern clans were supposed to be brave and bold, not so ... skittish.”
“I ... I can dance,” Leif said, trying to sound confident, but failing miserably.
“You don’t have to,” Damien said softly.
“I can dance,” Leif said again, though it sounded more like he was convincing himself. This was more than just about whether he would perform or not; it was about the pride of the North. And I knew Leif was proud. He would never allow anyone to look down on our clan because of him.
I stood up and marched through the sitting crowd. The entire scene suddenly went eerily quiet, as nervous eyes focused on me, possibly worried I was about to cause another scene. But that was not what I had in mind.
Leif looked at me like a lifeline as I approached him.
I said to him quietly, “Let’s do the Blood Moon Ritual Dance. I’ll play the drum, just like how we used to practice in the woods.”
Leif gulped. “I haven’t practiced it for almost a year ...”
“Come on, you’ve danced it at the Blood Moon Festival three times, and we practiced at least a hundred times.
You could dance it in your sleep,” I said, squeezing his shoulder gently.
“Just pretend all of these fuckers are stupid animals. And if that doesn’t help, just remember, even Lovel needs to shit sometimes.
They are just regular wolves, nothing special. ”
Leif couldn’t help but snicker, already much more relaxed.
I looked at the bard who played the hand drum and asked, “Do you have a bigger drum?”
He said hesitantly, “Um, I have a tapan.”
“Yeah, that should do.” I borrowed the drum. It was smaller than the ones we had back in the North, but close enough. I strapped the drum belt over my shoulder, letting it hang at a slight angle across my body, holding the thicker mallet in my right hand and the thinner one in my left.
Leif stood in the middle of the glade. The moonlight poured over him like a silver shower.
He looked like an ethereal elf made of moon essence.
I smiled at him, and he smiled back. I knew he was going to charm the entire court after this, and that omega from Eclipse would deeply regret challenging Leif like that. I would make sure of it.
“Let’s do this, little brother,” I said, and tossed the bigger mallet in the air, letting it flip flamboyantly before falling back into my hand.
Then I thumped heavily on the drum. I let the drumsticks fly on both sides of the drum.
The thicker stick set a steady, deep pace, while the thinner stick added in a sharp, rolling rhythm.
It was a ritual dance, and there wasn’t any other instrument to steal attention. The raw weight of the drum’s booming rhythm immediately changed the atmosphere of the scene.
Leif was actually a great dancer, even though he wasn’t particularly into it. He performed the dance only because it was his duty as the jarl’s omega child. But his movements were graceful yet powerful, nothing like the flighty dance steps the bards or Lovel had performed.
It was a dance prayer to the Goddess of War, the Great Wolf’s mate, Erythraea.
Each move was a tribute to her fierceness and power; each step was an imitation of her war dance.
Leif’s body moved perfectly in sync with the rhythm I set, and I also added a few more heavy booms to accentuate his key poses.
We had practiced this so many times together that it felt as natural and free as walking and running.
For a moment, I even forgot where we were, and it felt like we had returned to the snow-blanket forest, with only moonlight as our audience.
Except now, all eyes were fixed on Leif, glued to his mesmerizing dance, unable to look away. I knew this would be the case even before Leif began. Their delicate, frivolous court life probably hadn’t exposed them much to these rawer forms of art.
I actually had never performed the drum in those formal ceremonies, since there were better drummers to handle it.
I only learned it to help Leif overcome his stage fright, but I’d grown to like the feeling of playing it.
There was a sense of strength and freedom in the beats, like transforming into a wolf and running without a care in the world across a grassland.
I didn’t even realize I was smiling until I suddenly noticed that not everyone was watching Leif.
Damien had been staring at me. I didn’t know if he had been looking at me this whole time, but since I’d noticed it, he hadn’t looked away, not even for one second.