Alpha Luna Diary: My Personal Obsession

CHAPTER 17: Beneath the Forgotten Sanctuary

Open this diary only if you have ever wondered whether the past can truly stay buried. What if the secrets hidden beneath your feet were never meant to be found?

Dear Diary… today I followed a path that had been waiting for me long before I was born, and every step I took made me question whether my life had ever really belonged to me.

The entire academy shook beneath our feet as another deep rumble echoed from underground. Students screamed while teachers hurried them toward the evacuation buses waiting outside the campus gates. Dust drifted through the air like a gray curtain, swallowing the bright afternoon sunlight.

The cheerful sounds of school life had completely disappeared, replaced by frightened whispers and the distant cries of people who could not understand why the earth itself seemed to be waking up.

I stood frozen, my diary clutched tightly against my chest, my knuckles white around it. The map inside its pages kept glowing with a faint silver light, illuminating the crimson circle that marked the place Arthur had called the Sanctuary. My fingers trembled as I lifted my eyes to him.

“What is this place?” I asked him quietly, my voice barely holding steady. “Everyone keeps acting like they already know what is waiting beneath the school. Please… stop protecting me with silence. If I am really part of all of this, then let me face the truth instead of hiding from it.”

Arthur let out a deep sigh, and for the first time, the proud former Alpha looked every bit his age. He folded his hands behind his back and turned his gaze toward the cracked courtyard.

“The Sanctuary,” he said slowly, “is older than the Briggs family, older than the Sterling family, and older than the war that has divided us for generations. Long before our bloodlines fought over power, our ancestors gathered there to settle disputes peacefully. It was a sacred place where promises were made and never broken.”

He paused, his expression growing heavier by the second. “But seventeen years ago… that same place became the birthplace of betrayal.” The word betrayal echoed painfully through my chest.

Jack glanced at his grandfather before turning to look at me, his eyes softer than I expected. “Grandfather,” he said respectfully, “if Marionette is truly connected to the Sanctuary, then keeping her away from it will not protect her anymore. The diary has already chosen.”

Arthur said nothing. Max stepped forward, his voice firm. “Father, we have hidden this long enough. Whether we like it or not, events are moving beyond our control.”

Arthur slowly nodded. “I know,” he admitted, his eyes settling back on me, heavy with something like guilt. “Then the girl deserves to see it with her own eyes.”

Before anyone could move, Gabriel walked toward us. His usually immaculate suit was torn from the earlier battle, and a small cut near his forehead had dried into a thin streak of blood. Yet his confident smile remained, softer than before, almost tired.

“I suppose this is the part where neither of our families trusts the other,” Gabriel said with a faint chuckle. “So allow me to make something clear.”

“What now?” Jack asked, already frowning. “I am coming too,” Gabriel told him, his eyes steady. “No,” Jack said flatly.

Gabriel crossed his arms, unbothered. “You can say no as many times as you like, but the Sanctuary does not belong only to the Briggs family. Whatever happened seventeen years ago involved the Sterlings as well.”

“I do not trust you,” Jack said, his blue eyes hardening at Gabriel. Gabriel let out a quiet sigh. “I know you do not,” he admitted honestly, holding his gaze without flinching. “And to be fair, I have not given you many reasons to. But whether you believe me or not, I want the truth just as much as you do. My family has hidden things from me too.”

Jack stared at him for several long seconds, searching his face like he was trying to find a crack in it. “You expect me to believe that?” Jack finally asked, his voice low.

“I expect you to judge me by my actions instead of my surname,” Gabriel replied calmly. “Is that not exactly what Marionette has been asking all of us to do?”

I looked between them, my chest tightening. For once, neither of them seemed interested in fighting over me. They were arguing for something far bigger than either of us.

“Enough,” Arthur said firmly, cutting through the tension. “The entrance will not remain open forever.”

Emergency workers had already cleared away part of the collapsed courtyard. Beneath the cracked stone floor lay a wide spiral staircase descending into complete darkness.

Cold air drifted upward from below, carrying with it the scent of ancient stone and damp earth. It felt less like entering a ruin and more like stepping into a memory that had been waiting centuries to be remembered.

Jack fell into step beside me without a word. “You do not have to do this,” he murmured softly, his voice low enough that only I could hear it.

I looked up at him, my heart doing something strange and fluttery. “If you were in my place,” I asked quietly, “would you turn back?” He gave me a smile that did not quite reach his eyes. “No,” he said.

“Then neither will I,” I answered. Our eyes held for a moment longer than they needed to. His gaze carried worry, something close to admiration, and something else underneath both that neither of us dared to put a name to. My breath caught in my throat without permission.

Without thinking, he reached for my hand. His fingers slid gently between mine, warm despite the cold air pressing in around us. “It is only because the stairs are unstable,” he said quickly, looking anywhere but at me, his ears turning faintly red.

A small smile tugged at my lips. “Of course,” I said, letting the words carry more warmth than the excuse deserved. Neither of us let go the rest of the way down.

Gabriel watched the whole thing in silence, a flicker of something disappointed crossing his face for just a second. But instead of one of his usual teasing remarks, he simply lowered his head and dropped a few steps behind us, quiet in a way that felt heavier than any joke he could have made.

The deeper we descended, the colder the air became. Ancient wolf carvings covered the stone walls, each one depicting scenes unlike anything I had ever seen before. Wolves stood beside humans instead of hunting them. Different packs shared the same table. Alphas bowed before ordinary women holding books instead of weapons.

I stopped walking, staring at the walls in disbelief. “These pictures…” I whispered, almost to myself. “They are different.”

“They depict a time before hatred,” Arthur said behind me, his voice quiet and distant, like the memory pained him personally.

My diary suddenly grew warm in my arms. Its pages fluttered open despite there being no wind, and a soft silver glow spread across its cover.

Before I could react, a narrow passage on the right side of the staircase began to shine. “It is responding,” Max muttered, his eyes wide.

Arthur’s expression turned grave. “No…” he breathed, staring at the glowing corridor like he had seen a ghost. “It remembers her." My heart skipped painfully. “Remembers who?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Arthur looked at me, his mouth opening to answer, but before a single word left him, a loud grinding sound tore through the chamber. An enormous stone door slowly slid open, revealing a vast underground hall filled with towering pillars carved into the shapes of wolves.

At the center of the hall stood a single stone pedestal. Resting upon it was another diary. It looked almost identical to mine. Only its cover was black instead of brown.

Everyone froze in place. No one dared to move closer. “There were two all along?” Gabriel asked, frowning in surprise also. Arthur shook his head slowly. “There should never have been two,” he said, dread thick in his voice.

As I stared at the mysterious diary, my own suddenly slipped from my hands again. It floated several inches above the ground, pages opening on their own. At the same moment, the black diary resting on the pedestal opened as well.

The two books faced each other. Silver light burst from one, dark crimson light emerged from the other and ancient writing appeared across both sets of pages at exactly the same time.

The silver diary read: *One remembers the truth.*

The black diary answered: *One remembers the lie.*

Every person in the chamber stood frozen, my own pulse thundering in my ears. Then a voice echoed from somewhere deep within the darkness beyond the pillars. Calm. Cold. And unmistakably familiar.

“I was beginning to wonder how long it would take all of you to find them.”

A tall figure slowly stepped into the faint light. The hood fell from his head. Silver hair. Golden eyes. He is none other than Rowan Ashcroft.

He looked directly at me, and something in my chest went cold. Then his gaze shifted toward the black diary, and his expression darkened all at once. “No…” he whispered, his voice suddenly hollow. “We are already too late.”