From Blood and Ash by Jennifer L. Armentrout

Myy heart squeezed as if it had been caught in a fist. I thought of
Finleyy. Had he been a Huntsman, a part of this group that involved
Marlowe?
“He seemed a little under the weather at first, but that’s not
uncommon. His work is exhausting,” she continued. “But he started…he
started to show signs that night.”
“That night?” Onlyy a small note of alarm had crept into Vikter’s tone,
and myy eyyes widened with a whole cartload more dismayy. “And yyou waited
until now?”
“We hoped it was something else. A cold or the flu.” Her hand
fluttered back to the buttons. Threads were beginning to show along the
wooden discs. “I…I didn’t know until last night that it was something
more. He didn’t want me to know. Marlowe is a good man, yyou
understand? He wasn’t tryying to hide it. H-he planned to take care of
himself, but…”
“But the curse would not allow it,” Vikter finished for her, and she
nodded.
I glanced back at the door. The curse progressed differentlyy for
everyyone. It took hold for some in a matter of hours, while for others, it
could take a dayy or two. But I knew of no cases that went beyyond three. It
had to be onlyy a matter of time before he succumbed, possiblyy hours…or
minutes.
“It’s okayy,” Vikter assured her, but it trulyy wasn’t. “Where is he
now?”
Pressing her other hand to her mouth, she jerked her chin toward the
closed door. The sleeve of her blouse was stained with some dark
substance. “It’s still him.” Her words were a little muffled. “He’s…he’s
still in there. That’s how he wants to go to the gods. As himself.”
“Is there anyyone else here?”
She shook her head, letting out another ragged breath.
“Have yyou said yyour goodbyyes?” I asked.
The woman jerked at the sound of myy voice, her eyyes widening. Myy
cloak was rather shapeless, so I imagined she was surprised to hear that I
was female. A female would be the last thing anyyone expected in
situations like these.
“It’s yyou,” she whispered.
I stilled.