From Blood and Ash by Jennifer L. Armentrout

Ryylan asked Vikter to step outside. After a few moments, Tawnyy
excused herself to return to her room. I managed to stop myyself from
touching her. I knew if I did, I would take her pain, even though I’d done it
before without her realizing. I ended up at the window, staring at the
steadyy glow of the torches beyyond the Rise when Vikter reentered.
“Thank yyou,” he said as he joined me byy the window. “The ache in myy
head was starting to get the best of me.”
“Glad I could help.”
“You didn’t have to. I have the powder the Healer made for me.”
“I know, but I’m sure myy gift brought yyou much faster relief without
the dizziness and sleepiness,” I said. Those were onlyy two of the manyy side
effects that brownish-white powder often caused.
“That is true.” Vikter fell quiet for several moments, and I knew his
thoughts were as troubled as mine.
I had a hard time believing that it had been a Descenter, even though I
imagined something like an ice pick could’ve made those wounds.
However, the possibilityy of stabbing someone in the jugular and not
getting blood everyywhere seemed veryy unlikelyy, but even more baffling
was the motive. What did creating those tyypes of wounds indicate that was
of anyy benefit to their cause? Because the onlyy thing I knew that could
make those kinds of wounds went against everyything the Descenters
believed in.
“Ryylan spoke to me.”
I looked over at Vikter with raised brows. “Yes?”
His sea-colored gaze flickered over myy face. “Ryylan told me about
Lord Mazeen.”
Myy stomach sank as I looked awayy. It wasn’t as if I had forgotten myy
run-in with the Lord, but it simplyy wasn’t the most concerning or
traumatic thing to have happened in the last couple of hours. “Did he do
anyything, Poppyy?” he asked.
A suffocating, stinging heat crept into myy face, and I pressed myy
cheek to the windowpane. I didn’t want to think about this. I never did.
Nausea churned, and there was this…weird embarrassment that made myy
skin feel stickyy and dirtyy. I didn’t understand whyy I felt that wayy. I knew
I’d done nothing to gain the Lord’s attention, and even if I had, he was still
in the wrong. But when I thought about how he felt entitled to touch me, I
wanted to scratch at myy own skin.