Page 297 of Kingdoms of Night

The next thing Enid knew, she was in her husband’s arms. Geraint crushed her to him, holding her so tightly she was sure her vines would break. She didn’t care. She needed to soak up every one of these last moments with him before he learned what she’d done.

“Are you all right? Did he hurt you?” Geraint rain his hands over her body.

Oh, how she’d miss this. “I am unharmed.”

With that confirmed, Geraint looked around. He kept her encircled in his hold with one arm, his other hand at the hilt of his sword as he searched out danger.

“He’s gone,” Enid confirmed. “He’ll never return.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“I’m sure,” Enid answered. Then she steeled herself for the truth. "He wanted the sword," she confessed.

"I know," said Geraint.

Enid looked over his shoulder to see Loren. The female knight straightened and shrugged her shoulders in an unapologetic fashion. Enid wasn't mad that Loren hadn't held her confidence. At least now she'd get to see Geraint one last time.

"I would have given it to him if it meant you would be protected,” she said. “You and all these people who have shown me more kindness in a few days than I’ve seen all my life.”

Geraint shook his head as he sheathed his sword and pulled her closer. "You should have told me. I would have fought for you. I will always fight for you."

He pressed a tender kiss to her lips, then to her temple. Enid inhaled, breathing in the salty spice of him. Geraint gave her a tug as he stepped over the boundary. The moment his steps were back on Camelot soil, his grip slipped from hers.

He reached for her again to tug her to him. But the magic would not let her pass.

“What this?” said Geraint. “What has he done?"

"It wasn't my father,” said Enid. "It was me. As long as I was on the grounds, he would always have a way into Camelot. Now no fae can enter."

"But you're fae."

She nodded, tears forming in her eyes. She felt herself wilting where she stood. But she needed the last bit of courage she had to walk away from the man she loved enough to sacrifice everything she had.

CHAPTERTHIRTY

There were tears in his wife’s eyes. Geraint saw them fall, but he was distracted by their sweet smell. It was the scent that was all her. The scent he found behind her ear when he trailed kisses there. The scent on the tip of her tongue when she kissed him back with passion. Gone was the bitterness. This was her, his Enid.

And it was coming from the tears.

Geraint reached for her again, needing to hold her close. To protect her. It was his duty. But each time he reached for her, his hands slipped off her skin.

He looked down at the ground. He knew they were standing at the border of Camelot. But there was no barrier dividing them. He took two steps toward her, and finally he could pull her into his arms.

He held on tighter this time. Again, he lost his grip when he tried to pull her toward their home.

He lifted her into his arms. But when he tried to carry her across the boundary, his feet would not move forward. Finally, he set her down, his mind a windstorm of confusion.

“Come home with me, Enid.”

She shook her head. More tears fell. But he couldn’t catch a single one. Even though he was mere inches away from her.

“I can’t,” she said again.

He failed to understand. Or refused to. It was all so simple to him. She just needed to take a step forward and they could resume their lives together.

“It was the only way I could keep you safe,” she said. “The only way I could keep you all safe.”

Keep her safe? That was his job. Yet he couldn’t perform his duty because he couldn’t hold on to his wife.

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