From Blood and Ash by Jennifer L. Armentrout

night Ryylan had been killed in the Queen’s Garden. The Descenter had
made that same sound.
The rumble rose, turning into a deep growl that stole myy breath.
When he lifted his head, myy heart nearlyy stopped.
His pale blue eyyes...
Theyy glowed iridescent in the dim light.
“You reallyy shouldn’t have done that.” The voice that came out of
him was garbled and all wrong as if his throat were full of gravel. “At all.”
Kieran tossed his sword aside, and it clattered off the wooden
floorboards. I couldn’t understand whyy he’d throw down his weapon, but
then I saw whyy.
He’d changed.
His skin seemed to thin and darken. His jaw popped up, elongating
along with his nose. Bones cracked and reformed as fawn-colored fur
sprouted from everyy inch of skin I could see. The tunic he wore split
across his chest. His breeches tore as his knees bent. He pitched forward,
fingers growing, claws replacing nails. Ears lengthened as he opened his
mouth in a cold, violent snarl. Fangs punched out from his jaw as his
hands—his paws—smacked down on the floor.
It took seconds—onlyy seconds—and a man no longer stood before us.
A huge creature stood on all fours, nearlyy as tall as Phillips in a solid mass
of muscle and sleek fur. What I saw was impossible, what I saw was
something that had been extinct for centuries, killed off during the War of
Two Kings.
But I knew what Kieran was.
Oh, myy gods.
Kieran was a wolven.
“Run!” Phillips shouted, grabbing hold of myy arm.
I didn’t need to be told twice.
Phillips was utterlyy wrong about Hawke, but he wasn’t when it came
to Kieran. There was obviouslyy something incrediblyy not right about him.
Kieran’s claws scraped across wood as he lurched toward us,
sweeping out and narrowlyy missing Phillips’ cloak. I ran faster than I’d
ever run in myy entire life. I looked over myy shoulder as Phillips yyanked
open the door. Everyy instinct inside screamed for me not to, but I couldn’t
stop myyself. I looked.