Lucian and I are busy making breakfast when we hear a car approaching.
Since Lucian's small brick house is in a pretty remote part of Winter Lake, with the main road far in the distance, and a forest at the back, the driver is usually one of the pack or it's a lost tourist.
But, as the car approaches, I pick up a familiar scent and realize that this person isn't a lost tourist, nor is it one of our pack mates, but someone to see me.
"Cassia?"
I turn to Lucian, realizing I've abandoned whisking the waffle batter in favor of staring toward the front door. That he's calling me tells me I've been doing it for a while.
Ignoring Zia, who's sitting at the dining table with a mug of coffee in the cozy red and white shaker-style kitchen, I return the whisk to the bowl and hand it to him.
"I should see what he wants."
Lucian takes the bowl and sets it on the counter beside the electrical waffle maker. "I'll come with you."