Chapter 8 Furry Babysitter

Stumbling deeper into the mine felt less like a daring escape and more like participating in the world's worst extreme parenting challenge. Elara was pretty sure the dust coating everything was older than her grandma, and the air tasted like wet socks and forgotten dreams. Her post-birth glow was rapidly fading, replaced by the gritty reality of leaky tunnels and the insistent wails of a newborn who was decidedly not a fan of subterranean living.

Lucien, in his magnificent wolf-adjacent form, wasn't exactly Mr. Congeniality either. He kept sniffing the air like a furry, four-legged security system on high alert, his golden eyes darting into every shadowy crevice. It was slightly unnerving, especially when his snout got a little too close to the baby's head.

"Dude," Elara mumbled, shifting the surprisingly vocal infant in her arms. "Personal space. Baby's got it, you should too."

Lucien just grunted, a sound that could have meant anything from "Understood" to "Your puny human concepts are irrelevant." Honestly, with him, it was always a toss-up.

The "sustenance" in the leather pouch turned out to be some kind of thick, purplish goo that smelled vaguely of berries and iron. The baby, surprisingly, latched onto it with gusto, making slurping noises that were almost cute, if you ignored the fact that its eyes still had that unsettling golden glint. Elara tried not to dwell on what exactly she was feeding her kid. Probably best not to overthink the "ancient bloodline" part right now.

"So," Elara said, breaking the silence that was starting to feel heavier than the mine's ceiling. "This 'escape route'? Does it, like, eventually lead to a Starbucks or something? Because I could really go for a latte and maybe a shower that doesn't involve questionable dripping water."

Lucien flicked an ear, his massive form brushing against the tunnel wall, sending a shower of loose rock tumbling down. "Civilization is... some distance." His voice, still the deep rumble of a wild beast, sounded oddly apologetic. Like a bear who'd accidentally stepped on your favorite picnic blanket.

"Great," Elara sighed. "Just peachy. So, we're looking at a scenic hike through what appears to be the set of a low-budget horror film, with a newborn who thinks my boobs are a personal jungle gym and a giant, possibly carnivorous, furry babysitter."

Lucien actually stopped and turned his massive head towards her. There was a flicker in his golden eyes that Elara could have sworn was... amusement?

He let out a soft huff, a sound that almost bordered on a chuckle. It was weirdly endearing, in a "don't-forget-I-could-still-totally-eat-you" kind of way.

"Carnivorous... selectively," he rumbled, then continued down the tunnel.

"Oh, selectively carnivorous. Well, that's a relief," Elara muttered to the baby, who was now happily gumming on her finger. "As long as we're not on the 'dessert' menu, I guess."

The tunnel twisted and turned, leading them deeper into the earth. The air grew colder, and Elara shivered, clutching her baby closer. Lucien seemed to sense her discomfort. He moved closer, his large, furry body radiating a surprising amount of warmth. It was like having a giant, slightly intimidating, but ultimately cozy, space heater.

"Thanks," Elara said, feeling a grudging appreciation for her unusual companion. "For, you know, not eating me. And the warmth."

Lucien just grunted again. It was his conversational Swiss Army knife.

After what felt like hours of damp darkness and the baby's occasional protests, the tunnel opened into a larger cavern. Moonlight streamed in through a gaping hole in the ceiling, illuminating a vast space filled with rusted mining carts, decaying wooden beams, and the skeletal remains of forgotten machinery. It looked like a post-apocalyptic playground for very brave (or very stupid) kids.

"Well, look at this," Elara said, surveying their surroundings. "Talk about a fixer-upper. Think they have Wi-Fi?"

Lucien snorted, a decidedly un-billionaire-like sound. He padded towards a pile of what looked like relatively dry moss in a corner. "Rest. You need it."

Elara was too exhausted to argue. Carefully settling down on the moss, with the baby nestled securely in her arms, she leaned against the surprisingly warm fur of Lucien's flank. He settled down beside her, a massive, silent guardian against the darkness.

As she drifted off to sleep, lulled by the rhythmic breathing of her newborn and the surprisingly comforting presence of the beast beside her, Elara couldn't help but think her life had taken a seriously bizarre turn. Jilted, pregnant, and now on the lam in an abandoned mine with a werewolf-adjacent billionaire and a baby with golden eyes. If she ever made it out of this, the "how I met your father" story was going to be epic. And possibly require several stiff drinks.