Gina Goodwolf watched as the super-hot Dr. Nightwolf kicked the super-hot President Nightwolf out of the clinic—even though they were super-hot brothers! From what she’d read when he was running, President Nightwolf was the oldest of triplets. The “Miracle Triplets” they’d been called, when their mother first returned from the Viking Era with not one, but three four-year-olds who turned out to have been sired by the then King of Colorado. But in that moment, as Dr. Nightwolf shoved the president toward the door, they looked more like opponents than brothers.

“Get out!” he yelled at his much more clean-cut brother. “Get out, and stay out!”

President Nightwolf whipped around, and he didn’t look nearly as composed as he usually did on TV as he snarled, “I don’t see or hear from you in over two years—not until you need my help. I give it to you. And this is how you repay me?!”

“The way I figure it, the help you gave me was you repaying me for years of doing your dirty work.”

That statement brought President Nightwolf up short. And his eyes slid to Gina, who, like the other nurse on duty at the clinic, didn’t even make a pretense of not hanging onto every word of their argument.

Dr. Nightwolf followed his brother’s eyes to the nurse’s desk and smirked. “So you want to talk some more about who owes who in front of your constituents, Mr. President? Or would you rather get the hell out of here?”

President Nightwolf threw another glance toward the nurse’s station. And it looked to Gina like the smooth politico was seriously considering calling his brother’s bluff.

But in the end, he drew back his shoulders and straightened his tie, which probably cost more than what Gina made here in a week. Possibly a month. (And she wouldn’t even try to guess how much his well-tailored three-piece suit had set him back).

“Fine, I’ll go,” President Nightwolf said, peering down his nose at his slightly shorter brother. “I can always pay our cousin a visit when she’s out of the hospital. And believe me, I will.”

Dr. Nightwolf answered with a stare so dead-eyed, Gina had to wonder exactly what kind of “dirty work” he’d done for the president before he became a doctor. Why did she have the feeling blood with a whole lot of death on top had been involved?

“Real Indian,” as her dad used to call it when lamenting what the Native Wolf Tribes were like before the European wolves came to their lands.

From what she understood, the triplets were a quarter Latino, a quarter black, a quarter Inuit, and a quarter Native American. Not technically Native, but “Real Indian” was the term that sprang to mind as she watched Dr. Nightwolf stare down the most powerful wolf in North America.

In the end, President Nightwolf looked away first. But he called out, “You two stay here!” to the two guards flanking the door to the clinic’s nursery.

Typically, newborns were kept in the same room as their mother whenever possible. But in this case, the mom had been brought in unconscious and had stayed that way for nearly three days after the delivery. Dr. Nightwolf had been called in as soon as the Arizona Alpha King and the Wyoming Princess brought the unconscious mother through the door. And after arriving here in record time, he’d delivered the babies himself, refusing help from Gina or the other nurse.

After the delivery, President Nightwolf showed up with two guys she’d assumed were his personal security detail. Right up until they kicked the nurses and the town doctor out of the clinic, less than an hour after Dr. Nightwolf kicked them out of the O.R.

And when they’d finally been allowed to return the next morning, the nursery was on lock down. Blindfolds pulled closed, with a guard on each side of the door. Gina was dying to peek inside the room, but only family was allowed in the nursery. And so far, only the twin sister and her mother, the Queen of Michigan, had gone in to visit. Sadly, even with her wolf hearing at full strain, Gina had only managed to pick up, “not yet” and “give them some time” as the twin sister walked the new grandma out. Which might have explained why the Kings of Michigan hadn’t yet visited their grandkids. Maybe…

In any case, she could only wonder what would happen if either of their kingdom town’s two pregnant she-wolves decided to give birth earlier than expected. Why did she have the feeling they’d be transported to the nearest clinic in Nevada before they were ever allowed to give birth on the same premises as the precious future Queen of Michigan.

The whole situation pissed her off. That these royals could come into their town clinic and take over everything like they were the boss of them.

For that reason alone, it felt good to watch Dr. Nightwolf stand up to his brother. Even if, he was technically royalty himself.

But President Nightwolf didn’t exactly go quietly.

First, he came over to the nurse’s station and said, “Thank you for your continued discretion. I expect a call if anything else I should know about arises. No matter what Dr. Nightwolf tells you. In this matter, my authority supersedes his. Do you understand?” he asked Gina and the other nurse, Nell. As if they, like the guards, were under his command.

“Yes, sir,” Nell answered for them both. The total opposite of Real Indian.

God, I don’t like that wolf, Gina thought to herself as she watched him leave. Sure, she’d voted for him. Because he’d sounded intelligent, plus he was freaking hot. She remembered joking to her friends that she wouldn’t mind having a handsome quarter Indian to look at for the next four years, rather than another one of those ancient wolves who headed up the North American Lupine Council for all the decades Gina had been alive.

But that had been before he’d announced the Black Box project. Also, before he’d stormed into her clinic, tossing orders around like he owned the place.

For that reason, and for the money that had been regularly deposited in her bank ever since the “representative of an interested party” had visited her a few years ago, she didn’t feel so bad about what she did next.

As soon as President Nightwolf was gone, and Dr. Nightwolf returned to the she-wolf’s room, and the guards seemed to be looking elsewhere—though who could tell with those damned reflective glasses of theirs?—she covertly pulled out the old-fashioned burner phone she’d been given, just in case she ever needed to send a message to her contact. Just in case, as it turned out, was now….