Ao No Waltz Novels & Stories

“Since everyone is present and we are all gathered here for this very important night. Why don’t we completely enjoy the night.” Agreeing as they all bow to the presence of the crown royals that leads the night and walks towards the center ball as everyone paves their way and the attention is on their presence. The waltz plays as they gracefully dance. All in awe as the rest follows, with Nate asking Aira, Gilbert asking Chantal, JK asking Marie, Chantal pulling Aaron unto the crowed, and Jeffrey asking Bianca politely. Ayumi on the other hand-painted the floor with her mark and pentagram of creation, commanding her ability to be shown and creating the wonderful illusion of a flower field ga

"Nora's graceful. Cleo's gorgeous, sure, but way too wild. Not exactly Joubert material..." Damian acted like he didn't hear a thing. He looked at Cleo, voice flat. "You don't know this kind of waltz. Watch Nora. Learn something." Then he led Nora onto the floor. They fit—moving in perfect sync under the lights, pulling every eye in the room. Cleo watched them spin. No jealousy—just annoyance. She turned away, grabbed some food, then slipped out to the balcony for air. The night air hit cold, easing the tightness in her chest.

he said with a grin. Abeni laughed, her cheeks flushing with a blend of embarrassment and delight. She rose to her feet, letting Dmitry lead her into a slow waltz. The wooden floor of the balcony creaked beneath their feet as they moved in perfect harmony, the warm breeze ruffling their hair. The stars above seemed to spin along with them, and for a moment, Abeni forgot about everything else. She forgot about home, about the miles that still separated them from their new life together. She forgot about the weight of her past, about the pain she had endured. All that mattered was this man, this moment, this dance.

His gaze followed them with reptilian patience, lips curled at the edges. He didn’t move toward them. Not yet. Dimitri’s hand brushed lightly against Anya’s back. She nodded once—no fear. Zoe tugged her arm. “Mama… do we dance?” Anya knelt, smiling. “We do.” And as the orchestra began to play—a sharp, elegant waltz—they took to the floor. A family. Not performing. Owning. The night pressed on. The orchestra swelled, glasses clinked, conversations blurred beneath the heavy weight of expectation.

Azure roared like a beast. He was ready to pounce up to Lennox and die with him. He believed that he could do that. However, a red shadow flashed by their eyes. Just when everyone thought that Waltz was dead, she suddenly burst into action. She charged right beside Lennox in a split second and choked his neck. Two of her fingers directly pierced through the skin on his neck, with half an inch into his flesh. Two trails of blood wounds were formed as blood flowed down her fingers. “Ah—!”

~Abella My first reaction is to run. Despite my weakening limbs and clouding vision, I stumble into the club. The pounding music isn’t helping, and neither are the lights, as I squint, looking around for the sight of the immortal. Instead, I see dancing bodies and alcohol being passed around. A parting in the crowd allows me to see Cian by the bar, holding the bartender by the collar of his shirt. “Cian…” I call out hopelessly, although my voice is drowned out by the drowning pop music that is going to make me pass out any moment now. People stand in front of me, who I ruthlessly shove with all my effort. “Get out of my way.”

As Anita lifted her glass, her remarks reverberated with calm control throughout the Grant Family Charity Gala's large hall, which was alive with whispers and conjecture. Her composed smile and Nathan's steadfast support were captured by the flashing cameras. Harry's grin wavered across the room. For the first time, he recognised that the gullible girl he had dumped was no longer the woman he had once controlled. Anita's smile widened as she met his gaze, perhaps daring him to do something next. "Shall we dance, Mr. Grant?" With her fingers sliding inside Nathan's, Anita whispered to him.

It is clear just from looking at him, even in his suit, you can see that. His arm extends, his hand facing up. Anais gently places hers in his hand and walks to the dance floor, hoping the next song is not too slow or too fast. She is not the best dancer, which could be why she is never chosen. Getting to the dance floor, she stands, her awkwardness radiating from her as Bob Marley’s, Turn your lights down low starts.

Arnou asked me teasingly. I blushed crimson as I took his hand happily and allowed him to lead me to the dance floor. The music makers changed the music the moment they saw Arnou and I hit the dance floors. And the once lively beat turned into a romantic waltzing song. The pack members all voluntarily took a step back from the dance floor and as Arnou and I began to glid across the dance floor with his arm around my waist and my head on his chest, they sprayed flower petals and ash.