Celebrate (3 page)

He looked over his shoulder at Raynard. His master smiled at him as he led him back to his seat.

Several servants approached the cake and began the gargantuan task of cutting a piece for each avian who’d been invited to the party.

The lights in the room came up. Ori tried to make the best of the extra brightness and read his master’s expression more accurately, but he still found it impossible to work out what his master thought of the over-the-top birthday celebration.

Between all the presents he’d been given, and everyone stopping him to wish him a happy birthday, and now this party, Ori was all too aware that both he and his species had been front and centre for the entire day.

Raynard hadn’t complained about being pushed into the background. But now, as they approached a year since his first disastrous full shift, Ori couldn’t help but remember how devastated Raynard had been to find out that Ori wasn’t the ugly little duckling they had all assumed him to be.

The constant reminders of his submissive’s status as a swan had to be grating on him. Eager to remind Raynard that he was still the same man, and that he was still as desperate to serve and to submit to him as ever, Ori cast around for something he could do that might be considered useful.

“May I fetch a piece of cake for you, sir?” Ori asked. He’d barely got the last word out when a servant appeared, carrying several plates with pre-cut slices resting upon them. Ori forced a smile and accepted the plate that was set down in front of him with a murmur of thanks.

“It won’t be much longer now, fledgling,” Raynard whispered to him.

“Sir?”

Raynard just smiled and ate a mouthful of cake.

No one had told Ori that the party was due to end at a particular time, but within an hour of his blowing out the candles, it was obvious they were expected to leave.

A possible explanation came by way of Mr. Hamilton, but Ori didn’t have a chance to ask his master about it until they were both in Raynard’s car and heading away from the nest.

“When I was saying good-bye to Mr. Hamilton, he mentioned that you’d explained to him that we needed to leave promptly at eleven o’clock tonight so we could be home by midnight, sir?”

“Yes. That’s what I told him.” Raynard’s tone was just slightly off.

“It’s not the whole truth, sir?” Ori asked cautiously.

“No, it’s not. But we do have somewhere else to be, and I have no intention of arriving there after midnight.”

“Is one of us going to turn into a pumpkin at midnight, sir?” Ori asked. His hopes of lightening the atmosphere in the car died quickly.

“No,” Raynard replied, seriously. “You’re going to turn into a swan.”

Ori tensed up. He glanced at Raynard’s profile as they turned a corner and headed in the opposite direction of Raynard Lodge. “We’re not going home, sir?”

“No.”

Ori nibbled at his bottom lip. There hadn’t been any room for negotiation in that no. It wasn’t an answer that invited further enquiries.

Ori turned his attention to the view through the passenger side window—half to avoid Raynard noticing anything off in his expression and half in an attempt to try to work out where they were going so he’d be less likely to make a fool of himself when they arrived there.

It seemed highly unlikely that their next stop could have anything to do with his birthday. Ori had received presents from everyone who could possibly want to give him anything, and from quite a few people who Ori had never expected to want to do so, for that matter.

He’d heard happy birthday fall from the lips of every single avian he knew—except for his master of course. Ori bit his bottom lip. Perhaps he’d been wrong to assume that Raynard hadn’t wished him a happy birthday because they both knew there was no need for him to do that—because they both knew he made Ori happy every day of the year.

Suddenly, Ori wondered if he had been wrong to assume a lot of things. Perhaps Raynard was the only one of them who was capable of making another person happy every day. Maybe Ori was actually making his master miserable, and Ori just hadn’t noticed.

That had always been Ori’s biggest fear of all. He closed his eyes and did his best to keep his breathing steady and regular so Raynard wouldn’t notice that he was freaking out. But he couldn’t actually stop thoughts spiralling chaotically through his mind.

The car rolled to a stop. Raynard turned off the engine.

“You know what to do.”

Ori felt something against his hand. He automatically turned his palm up to receive whatever his master wanted to give him. Opening his eyes, he saw a key. It wasn’t entirely unfamiliar. He looked out through the windscreen.

“The park,” he blurted out.

“Yes.” Raynard got out of the car.

Ori scrambled to take off his seatbelt and get out. By the time he’d reached the heavy iron gates and unlocked the padlock that secured them, Raynard was at his side.

Ori dutifully closed and locked the gate behind them then hurried to catch up with Raynard. Just like the previous times they’d visited the park, Raynard had a bag with him. However, there had only been one other time when Raynard hadn’t been willing to let Ori carry it for him. There was something about this occasion that made it more like their first visit than any other.

The moon was out, and there was enough light to see by, but there was also enough darkness to make Ori inclined to keep close to Raynard’s side. As they went deeper into the grounds, it seemed to get darker still.

Ori soon lost all sense of direction in the gloom, but Raynard put his hand on the small of Ori’s back and kept them moving confidently forward until the narrow path opened out into the grassy clearing alongside the lake’s edge.

Ori’s heart raced as he stared across the water. The part of him that knew he should have wings fluttered its feathers—thrilled to be back there.

Raynard set his bag down on the bench that looked out over the lake. As he busied himself sorting through whatever he’d brought with him, Ori shuffled his feet on the worn down grass in front of the bench.

Neither his avian side nor his human side seemed to know what to do with himself. His rest position once more came to his rescue. He managed to stop fidgeting but not settle his nerves. For the first time in months, he didn’t feel confident asking his master for an order.

“Take off your clothes. Put them in the bag.”

Of course, he didn’t always need to
ask
for an order. Raynard wasn’t the kind of man who needed to be invited to issue a command. Ori smiled slightly despite his concerns.

He undressed quickly, folding his clothes as he removed them and setting them in a neat pile next to the bag. He was just about to move them into the bag when he saw Raynard take out a small Christmas lantern.

“I found that,” Ori blurted out. “In one of the attics at the lodge. I found it, sir.”

“I know you did. It was in among quite a few other Christmas decorations. Did you think I wasn’t paying attention?”

Ori opened and closed his mouth. In all honesty, he hadn’t thought Raynard had noticed that he was still slowly working his way through the last few parts of the house that needed to be sorted out. Ori certainly hadn’t gone out of his way to advertise that he was still as interested in completing a duckling’s duties as he was in doing all the things a good swan should do.

Guilt sent a shiver down Ori’s spine.

Raynard set the lantern on the bench, struck a match, and lit the candle inside the little glass cylinder. “You’re not used to flying at night. This will help you spot the bench in the dark and find your way back to it.”

“Back to you, sir,” Ori said.

“No.”

Ori’s pulse doubled. “You won’t be waiting on the bench, sir?”

“No.”

Ori was naked; but his nudity had nothing to do with the feeling of vulnerability that flooded his veins. “Sir?”

Raynard ignored his question.

Ori frowned. That was wrong. Raynard never ignored him. He corrected him sometimes, but whether he was right or wrong, Raynard never ignored him.

“What happens if the candle goes out, sir?”

Raynard straightened up. Turning to meet Ori’s confused gaze, he reached for the top button of his shirt. “Then you simply follow me.”

Ori watched in fascination as Raynard pushed each button through its hole in turn. Raynard slipped his shirt off and held it out to Ori.

Snapping back into reality, Ori rushed forward and took the garment, just as he was so used to doing when his master undressed in the little attic room before stretching his wings.

While folding each item and putting both his master’s and his own clothes into the bag, Ori was able to let his body work on auto-pilot. His actions remained calm and controlled, even his mind raced.

Once Raynard was naked, he did up the sports bag and moved it to the opposite end of the bench from the lantern.

“We’re going to fly together, sir?” Ori asked, softly.

“Unless you have some objection?”

Ori shook his head. The idea of flying high and free in the night sky, not just looking down and seeing his master, but to be able to feel his master flying alongside him… His throat closed up. His cock stiffened.

“I’ll take this as a sign of approval,” Raynard said, running a fingertip along Ori’s erection.

Raynard reached for Ori’s collar.

As much as Ori hated feeling it being removed, especially now, when he felt more tentative in his understanding of Raynard than he had for almost a year, Ori steeled himself and managed not to object.

The collar had to come off before he shifted. Raynard had always been even more strict about that rule than he had about all the others. Usually, Raynard’s strictness was one of the things that Ori loved about him, but he’d have been thrilled if his master were a little less consistent, just on this one rule.

Rather than put Ori’s collar safely in the sports bag with their clothes, Raynard draped the length of black leather over the back of the park bench. The silver tag glittered in the moonlight.

Ori bit his lip. There was no reason to think a thief would sneak into the park, and his master obviously knew best, but to leave his collar out in the open like that…

“Go ahead, fledgling.” Raynard nodded to the strip of grass leading to the edge of the lake. Over the last year, Ori had come to think of it as something akin to his own private runway. Not sure what else to do, he forced himself to step away from both his master and his collar and turn his attention inwards.

His body loved it when he shifted. Any uncertainty his mind felt was no match for it. The swan part of him flew to the front of his psyche and unceremoniously shoved the human part of him into the background.

It had become easier to shift each time they’d visited the park. There was no pain now, just the wonderful sense of rightness that came from freeing that side of himself. Ori extended his wings and preened a few ruffled feathers, then felt exceptionally silly for trying to look nice for his master that way. Raynard wasn’t going to enjoy looking at a swan, no matter how neat his feathers might be.

Ori glanced uncertainly toward his master.

Raynard moved behind the wooden bench, entirely unselfconscious in his nudity. Ori had never seen another man shift while he was in his swan form. It seemed to happen even quicker through avian eyes.

One moment, Raynard was human. The next moment, wings fluttered and Raynard was perched on the back rail of the bench. He shuffled to his left until his talons rested against Ori’s collar. When he took off, Ori saw a flash of leather and silver go with him. Raynard had taken Ori’s collar up into the sky.

Ori always wanted to follow wherever his master led, but this time it was less a want than a need. He clumsily rushed toward the water’s edge, his neck outstretched and his wings flapping madly. Raynard couldn’t have convinced Ori to follow him more rapidly if the collar he carried had been connected to Ori’s soul by a thick leather lead.

Ori’s take-off was never going to be as elegant as Raynard’s, but the air caught his wings, and he got airborne. The darkness of the night sky surrounded him. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw the glint of moonlight on a little silver disc.

He wasn’t following Raynard now—he didn’t have that kind of skill or manoeuvrability in the air. Wide looping circles were far more Ori’s speed. Raynard had to follow him instead.

No, Ori realised, as he turned at the end of a long arc and made his way back toward the park. Raynard wasn’t following him. He didn’t stay on Ori’s tail and make use of the path Ori cut through the air. Raynard swooped and danced around him, full of confidence—his innate dominance just as obvious when they were both in their avian forms as when they were both human.

Raynard wasn’t the type to follow anyone—no matter what rank someone held in the nest. But Raynard was very much someone who would guard what was his. He was physically smaller than Ori now, but Ori still knew that, if someone or something were to try to attack him, Raynard would give them hell. And he’d do it all without ever dropping Ori’s collar too!

Ori circled the park again and again, glorying in sharing the sky with his master. Raynard had ordered him to shift and stretch his wings regularly, but that had always been an order to fly on his own. He’d never been invited to fly with Raynard—he’d never realised how different it would feel.

A noise from Raynard and a flash of feathers let Ori know that, even if he had a beak, Raynard still liked giving orders. They’d flown for as long as Raynard intended them to fly. Ori obediently turned toward the edge of the lake nearest the bench. As he got close, he could just make out the tiny point of light from the lantern guiding him in.

Landings were never his strongest point. A night landing when his emotions were running high and he had his master on his tail—it was never going to be graceful.

He splashed into the shallow water near the edge of the lake. Looking up as his vision returned to human focus, he spotted the bench and the lantern. He struggled toward them, eager to be close to where Raynard would land.