The eldest daughter of the Rosewood family, Lula, stood before the mirror, admiring her wedding dress. From top to bottom, her mother had meticulously planned everything, even extending her vision far into the future. She had already made plans for Lula's motherhood, preparing for the day when her daughter might have children of her own.
"My baby, you look absolutely fabulous!" Mrs. Rosewood exclaimed with unrestrained joy.
"Mom, this is too much."
Despite the lavish praise, Lula cast a pitiful glance at her reflection. The dress, though splendid, felt oppressive. She could already imagine how exhausting it would be to walk in, not to mention how troublesome it would be to remove. Her childhood had been no different—everything always decided for her. But what would happen once she moved out to live with her husband?
"What nonsense! Come along; we can't keep him waiting," her mother said briskly, cutting off Lula's protest.
Guided to her father, she was met with a warm smile.
"You look gorgeous, honey," he said.
"Thanks, Dad," Lula replied with a sigh, resigning herself to the moment. Her parents had poured so much time and effort into making this day perfect.
As tears welled in her mother's eyes, she pulled Lula into a tight embrace. "If they mistreat you, don't hesitate to tell your brothers!"
Instead of worrying about what the future might hold, Lula focused on the present, immersing herself in the warmth of her mother's hug.
"Mom, Dad, I'll be fine. Otherwise, I'm not a Rosewood," she teased with a mischievous smile, feeling a flicker of excitement for her new life.
But before the wedding ceremony could unfold, an unexpected incident set her marriage into motion.
Following her usual routine, Lula decided to take her daily walk, a cherished pastime on the sprawling Rosewood estate. Each step deepened her connection to the land, mapping every tree, stream, and trail in her mind. The walks were more than leisure; they were moments of peace and reflection.
One day, while exploring, she stumbled upon a sparkling stream. Its surface shimmered under the warm sunlight, dotted with a mix of vibrant and unassuming pebbles. Among them, a collection of black-and-white stones caught her eye. As curiosity got the better of her, she leaned closer to pick a few.
However, as her foot landed on what she assumed was a sturdy rock, it gave way. She slipped, and before she could regain balance, the rushing current swept her downstream. Familiar terrain blurred into the unknown, leaving her stranded in unfamiliar territory.
When the stream finally relinquished her, Lula found herself face to face with a massive brown bear. Her heart raced, instincts screaming at her to run. With her outing dress dragging behind her like an anchor, she clutched its fabric, trying desperately to tear it apart for easier movement.
"Why did I wear this dress for a stroll?" she muttered, frustration mounting as the bear closed in.
In her panic, she failed to notice the metallic clink of a trap hidden beneath the bush. Tripping over its string, she stumbled forward. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw the bear leap into the air.
"Unbelievable!"
Thud.
The bear's weight slammed her into the ground, pinning her beneath it. For a moment, Lula froze, accepting that she was destined to be its dinner. When she dared to peek, she noticed the creature wasn't moving.
"Mr. Bear?" she whispered.
Cautiously, she poked and pinched the bear's fur, but it remained lifeless. Relief washed over her.
"I'm alive!" she cried, exhilarated.
Her relief was short-lived. The bear's heavy body was abruptly lifted off her. Startled, she looked up to find a scarred man standing over her. His body bore the marks of countless battles—some scars fading, others still fresh. His toned, muscular frame made him appear as fierce as the bear itself. A dagger hung at his side, a bow slung across his back.
His piercing gaze roamed over her, and Lula flushed under its intensity. When his eyes drifted to her exposed legs, she clumsily tried to stand, feeling vulnerable beneath his predatory stare.
"Are you cold?" he asked, his gruff voice sending a shiver down her spine.
"Y…yes, I am," she stammered, heat creeping up her face.
The man nodded, his expression unreadable. But before Lula could process what was happening or even ask for help, a rustling sound in the woods broke the tense silence.
He tightened his hand around the dagger. Lula froze, her heart pounding as the noise grew louder. Something—or someone—was approaching.