Noah wouldn't call himself a genius, but he was smarter than most kids his age.
When Noah's older brothers were consumed with power and control, he was fiddling with computers and boredom. He knew he grew up with privileges his brothers could never afford at his age. Before his imprisonment, he had never learned what hunger was. What pain felt like. What abuse did to the mind and skin. He had grown up pampered and privileged—something his brothers made sure of.
As a result, Noah was unlike the werewolves his age. He never sought violence. Never enjoyed running through the forest. He seldom spoke to his wolf or relied on its wisdom. He didn't have a lot of friends. People either feared or revered his family name. Tiberias.
No one could look past the Tiberias part of Noah. All he wanted to do was break free from his family name. People always expected greatness from him the way they did of Cruden and Kallum. Noah didn't like that. Not even one bit.
