His spine arched with liquid grace, body bowing backward into a flawless backflip. The motion was controlled chaos — powerful shoulders rolling, hips snapping, legs tucking just enough to clear the deadly points by a whisper.
The spikes hissed past his spine like jealous blades denied their meal. For one suspended, heart-stopping moment he hung inverted above the barrier, silhouetted against the moonlit sky like a dark angel rejecting the rules of mortal confinement.
The wind whipped through his hair and clothes as gravity finally remembered its claim, but it was already too late.
Time stretched glacial and luxurious, thick as molten honey poured over the edge of eternity.
