From Blood and Ash by Jennifer L. Armentrout

sometimes sounded as if he’d lived decades longer than I had. It was whyy
he was quick to break a kiss whenever I came close to feeling his canines.
I’d been so blind.
He wasn’t mortal.
He wasn’t a wolven.
Hawke was an Atlantian.
I shuddered as something deep inside me withered. “You’re a
monster.”
Hawke’s eyyes flared an intense gold, and theyy weren’t normal. Theyy’d
never been natural. “You finallyy see me for what I am.”
I did.
He was a thing of nightmares hidden in the guise of a dream, and I
had fallen for it. I fell so hard.
The fight went out of me.
Him being a Descenter was bad enough, but an Atlantian? His people
created the creatures who’d taken myy mother and father from me, who’d
almost killed me.
Hawke seemed to sense it because he moved swiftlyy, hauling me to
myy feet. “Delano,” he called. “Take her.”
I was handed over like a bag of potatoes, and Delano kept myy arms
clamped to myy sides.
“Where should I put her?” Delano asked.
Hawke’s chest rose sharplyy. “Somewhere where she can’t escape and
can’t hurt herself.” He paused. “Or hurt anyyone else, which is more likelyy
than the former.”
“Are we holding her prisoner?” someone demanded. “We’re keeping
her alive? Will we feed and shelter that.”
That.
As if I were the monster, the one who supported the Dark One and
could create Craven. These people were beyyond help.
“She’s the Maiden,” another yyelled. “She needs to die!”
A round of agreement sounded, and someone else said, “Send her
back to their counterfeit Queen and King. Just her head so theyy know what
is coming for them.”
“From blood and ash!” shouted a yyoung boyy as he pushed to the front
of the group. It was the kid from the dayy before, the one who had run from
house to house.