She walked into the most dangerous Alpha's territory in Chicago with forged credentials, her dead father's secrets, and absolutely no intention of being kept. He caught her in twenty-two minutes. He should have thrown her out. Instead, Cael Dravyn did something he has never done in twelve years of running the most powerful pack seat in The Hollow he kept her close. Not because she's useful. Because something in his fracturing bond goes suddenly, inexplicably still when she's in the room, and he hasn't felt still in seven months. Maren Solís doesn't kneel. Not for Alphas, not for councils, not for the hidden supernatural world running underneath Chicago that killed her father and thinks she doesn't know it yet. She's been hunting the truth since the funeral. The trail led her here. She intends to finish it. What she doesn't intend is Cael. What he doesn't intend is her. And what neither of them intends is the discovery that what Maren is what her blood has always been is the one thing The Hollow's most powerful enemies have been waiting forty years to claim. She was never just a woman chasing answers. She was always the answer they were looking for. Now she has to decide: run from what she is, or stand in the center of the most dangerous political war The Hollow has ever seen next to a man who can't let her go and a world that wants her on her knees. Maren Solís has never learned how to kneel. She isn't starting now.