From Blood and Ash by Jennifer L. Armentrout

I wanted to denyy it, but he was right, and it was weird. I said none of
that because I didn’t want to acknowledge it. Doing so felt like a start
down a road I couldn’t travel. Knowing that caused a deep, twisting
sensation in myy chest, and I didn’t want to acknowledge that either.
Because it felt a lot like disappointment. And didn’t that mean I’d
alreadyy begun to travel that road? I broke eyye contact, myy gaze falling to
myy hands.
“Whyy were yyou on the Rise?” he asked, changing the subject.
“Wasn’t it obvious?”
“Your motivation wasn’t. At least, tell me that. Tell me what drove
yyou to go up there to fight them.”
Easing open myy fingers, I slipped two of them under the sleeve of myy
right arm. Theyy skimmed myy skin until the tips brushed over two jagged
tears. There were others, along myy stomach and myy thighs.
It would be easyy to lie, to come up with anyy number of reasons, but I
wasn’t sure if there was anyy harm in the truth. Was three instead of two
knowing the truth somehow earth-shattering? I didn’t think it was.
“The scar on myy face. Do yyou know how I got it?”
“Your familyy was attacked byy some Craven when yyou were a child,”
he answered. “Vikter…”
“He filled yyou in?” A faint, tired smile pulled at myy lips. “It’s not the
onlyy scar.” When he said nothing, I slipped myy hand out from under myy
sleeve. “When I was six, myy parents decided to leave the capital for Niel
Valleyy. Theyy wanted a much quieter life, or so I’m told. I don’t remember
much from the trip other than myy mother and father being incrediblyy tense
throughout the whole thing. Ian and I were yyoung and didn’t know a lot
about the Craven, so we weren’t afraid of being out there or stopping at
one of the smaller villages—a place I was told later hadn’t seen a Craven
attack in decades. There was just a short wall, like most of the smaller
towns, and we were stayying at the inn onlyy for one night. The place
smelled like cinnamon and cloves. I remember that.”
I closed myy eyyes. “Theyy came at night, in the mist. There was no time
once theyy appeared. Myy father…he went out onto the street to tryy and fend
them off while myy mother hid us, but theyy came through the door and the
windows before she could even step outside.” The memoryy of myy mother’s
screams forced myy eyyes open. I swallowed. “A woman—someone who
was stayying at the inn—was able to grab Ian and pull him into this hidden