In the elegantly fashioned guest bathroom where everything was brass or gold trimmed, the walls marbled tile, the shower and separate whirlpool tub stylish, Amy felt like she was in a luxury hotel instead of an ancient castle as she finished dressing in a pair of black jeans and a long-sleeved, pale blue jersey, the clothes compliments of Julia.
Ian’s mate was a red wolf. . . Amy could sense the difference. . . while everyone else she’d encountered thus far were gray wolves. Julia was a natural redhead with deep red-orange curls resting on her shoulders, translucent ivory skin, and olive-green catlike eyes that made her appear like she had Scottish roots.
Duncan’s mate, auburn-haired Shelley, had offered Amy a pair of black leather boots because their shoe size was the same. Her eyes wer
