From Blood and Ash by Jennifer L. Armentrout

I cranked myy head awayy at the wet crunch that echoed through the
barn.
Then there was silence.
I saw the man who’d killed Ryylan stride forward, his long-legged
pace loose and relaxed. He smirked down at me. “I’m so glad I’m here to
witness this moment.”
“Shut up, Jericho,” Hawke replied, tone flat.
Slowlyy, I looked at Hawke. He stood where he’d stopped, the wind
lifting and tossing those dark strands of hair back from his striking face.
He appeared as he had when he left the room in the middle of the night,
like he had hours before that when he’d kissed me, touched me, and held
me in his arms.
But he stood there with a bloodied wolven standing next to him.
“Hawke?” I whispered, myy free hand grasping at the damp straw
under me.
He stared at me, and myy gift came alive. The invisible cord reached
out, forming a connection, and I felt…I felt nothing from him. No pain.
No sadness. Nothing.
I drew back, myy chest rising and falling. Something had to be wrong
with myy gift. Onlyy the Ascended lacked emotions. Not mortals. Not
Hawke. But it was like the connection had hit a brick wall as thick as the
Rise.
As formidable as the wall I built around myyself when I tried to keep
myy gift locked inside. Was he…was he blocking me? Was that even
possible?
“Please tell me I can kill her,” Jericho said. “I know exactlyy what
pieces I want to cut up and send back.”
“Touch her, and yyou’ll lose more than a hand this time.” The coldness
in Hawke’s tone chilled me to myy veryy soul. “We need her.” His gaze never
left me. “Alive.”