The iron hovered an inch from Noa’s chest, close enough for him to feel the heat crawl into his skin without contact. The glow lit his trembling ribs, outlining every rapid breath, every quiver of flesh. His lungs seized. His whole body locked, muscles screaming against invisible chains. He could already imagine the sound his skin would make: the hiss, the sizzle, the scream that would rip out of him whether he wanted it or not.

And then

The door slammed open.

The crash echoed through the ...