The stack of papers on my desk was approximately six inches high.
I stared at it from the doorway of what used to be my childhood bedroom and was now apparently my "home office," trying to process the sheer volume of correspondence that had accumulated during our two-week honeymoon.
"That can't all be urgent," Kai said from behind me, though his voice lacked conviction.
"Logan said he only included the 'absolutely critical' items." I walked closer to the desk, reading header lines on official-looking documents. "International confederation bylaws requiring approval. Territorial dispute mediation requests from... seven different pack combinations. Something from the European Union about establishing supernatural citizen recognition protocols."
