Beatrice ignored her and returned to the sofa, taking a seat. "I'm not leaving; you'll have to drag me out of this room," she declared.
Linnea sighed in frustration, running her hands through her hair and pulling at it aggressively. Her mother was making her angry.
"Sit down; we have a lot to discuss today." Beatrice glanced around the room. "Your room is nice. I suppose the triplet Alphas are treating you well."
"What does that have to do with you?" Linnea groaned, still standing by the door.
"I'm happy for you—you were mated to those who care about you." She beamed.
Linnea exhaled sharply. "I'm not like you."
"I know. You're better, smarter, kind-hearted, and empathetic. You are truly beautiful."
"Mom, you have two choices: tell me why you're here, or leave. The door is open; you're not welcome. I don't want you here," Linnea demanded.
