From Blood and Ash by Jennifer L. Armentrout

“Don’t lie to me!” I screamed. “Did yyou know there’d be an attack on
the Rite? Is that whyy yyou disappeared? Whyy yyou weren’t there when Vikter
was killed?”
The hollows of his cheeks became sharper. “What I know is that
yyou’re upset. I don’t blame yyou, but I’ve also seen what happens when yyou
get reallyy angryy,” he said, taking a step toward me, lifting his hands.
“There is a lot I need to tell—”
The pain erupted out of me like it had the night of the Rite when I
turned on Lord Mazeen. I had no control over myyself. I moved out of
instinct, cocking back myy arm and throwing the dagger.
This time, I aimed for his chest.
Hawke let out a curse as he stepped to the side, snatching the dagger
out of the air. Someone behind him let out a low whistle as Hawke whirled
on me, the look of disbelief on his face almost comical. But in the back of
myy mind, I’d known he would catch it. All I’d needed was a distraction so
I could dip down and pick up Phillips’ fallen sword. I swung out, aiming
for the bastard who’d killed Ryylan. Jericho jumped back, but he wasn’t
entirelyy fast enough. I cut him again, across the stomach this time.
“Bitch,” Jericho cried out, clamping his remaining hand down on the
gushing wound.
I spun just as someone crashed into me from one side and then the
other. Myy arm was twisted around. Something hot sliced across myy
stomach as I reared back, using myy attacker’s weight against them. Theyy
fell, arms still around me. I snapped myy head, cracking myy skull into their
face. There was a yyelp, and the hold loosened enough for me to tear free. I
grabbed the sword from the straw and thrust it out blindlyy. I onlyy saw a
flicker of shock in the brown eyyes of a male not too much older than me as
he looked down. I yyanked the sword free and spun, coming face to face
with Hawke.
I hesitated.
Like a complete idiot, I hesitated, even though I knew he was working
for the Dark One. He was a Descenter. Because of him, so veryy manyy
innocent people were dead. Hannes. Ryylan. Loren. Dafina. Malessa—gods,
had he killed her?
Vikter.
“That was veryy naughtyy,” Hawke chided, snatching the sword out of
myy hand as if I hadn’t been holding onto it. “You are so incrediblyy