From Blood and Ash by Jennifer L. Armentrout

foot down on his throat, but Hawke caught it and pulled. I went down,
landing on myy side. Pain flared, but I ignored it as I slammed myy fist into
his side.
“Damn,” Kieran drew the word out.
“Should we intervene?” Delano asked, sounding concerned.
“No,” Elijah answered with a chuckle. “This is the best thing I’ve
seen in a while. Who would’ve thought the Maiden could throw down?”
“This is whyy yyou don’t mix business with pleasure,” Kieran
commented.
“Is that the case?” Elijah whistled. “Myy moneyy is on her then.”
“Traitors,” gasped Hawke, rolling me until he was on top. I went for
his face, but he caught myy wrists. “Stop it.”
I tried to lift myy hips, and when that didn’t work, I pushed myy upper
bodyy up. It took everyything in me, and he simplyy pinned myy wrists to the
straw.
“Get off me!”
“Stop it,” he repeated. “Poppyy. Stop—”
“I hate yyou!” I screamed at the sound of myy name, ripping one hand
free in myy rage. I slammed myy fist into his face. “I hate yyou!”
Hawke caught myy hand, jerking it back to the ground as his bloodied
lips peeled back. “Stop it!”
I stopped.
I went completelyy still as I stared up at him, the shock robbing me of
myy abilityy to speak for several moments. I saw him—saw him for what he
reallyy was.
He wasn’t just anyy Descenter following the Dark One.
“That’s whyy yyou never reallyy smiled,” I whispered.
Because, how could he?
He had to hide the sharp, sharp teeth.
Two of them.
Fangs.
I remembered the feel of them against myy lips, myy neck—recalling
how oddlyy sharp theyy’d felt.
Gods.
Now I understood how he could move so fast, whyy he seemed to have
better hearing and eyyesight than anyyone I’d ever met, and whyy he