Sera slid to her knees on the carpet next to Kian.
She reached out, pressing two fingers hard against the side of his neck. His carotid pulse hammered against her fingertips-racing, erratic, and dangerously weak.
She looked at his face. His lips were already turning a faint, terrifying shade of blue. The severe oxygen deprivation was setting in rapidly as his airway swelled shut.
"Hold on," Sera muttered, her voice dropping into a sharp, clinical command tone.
She swiftly patted down his jacket. Her hands moved with professional urgency, knowing that every passing millisecond brought him closer to brain death. She checked the most accessible points first, her palms sliding rapidly over the heavy fabric. Her fingers brushed against the distinct, hard cylindrical shape tucked securely in his right-hand outer pocket. She yanked it out, angling it toward the dim corridor light to read the label. It was a sleek, medical-grade EpiPen.
Sera didn't hesitate. She bit down on the blue safety cap, ripping it off with her teeth and spitting it onto the floor.
She gripped his thigh, locating the thickest part of the outer muscle. She drove the needle firmly through his dark jeans, pressing the device hard until it clicked. She held it there, counting three agonizing seconds as the life-saving adrenaline shot into his system.
Kian let out a sharp, ragged gasp. His eyelids fluttered open slightly as the drug hit his heart, but his breathing remained shallow and strained. The single dose wasn't enough to fully reverse a reaction this severe.
Sera glanced down the hallway. It was too exposed. If a guest or a crew member walked by and saw the A-list star dying on the floor, it would trigger a massive media circus.
She hooked her arms firmly under Kian's armpits. Utilizing precise leverage rather than raw strength, she hauled his heavy frame upward. She dragged him backward into the open elevator car.
She slammed her hand against the button for the underground parking garage. She needed to get him to his private transport and his medical team.
The metal doors slid shut, cutting off the view of the hallway and the shattered wine glass.
The elevator began to descend.
Suddenly, the entire car shuddered violently. The overhead fluorescent lights flickered wildly before dying out completely. The emergency brakes engaged with a deafening, metallic screech, throwing Sera against the wall.
The elevator jerked to a halt, trapped somewhere between the fourth and third floors.
A second later, the dim, blood-red emergency light clicked on, casting sinister, harsh shadows across the small metal box.
Kian's head lolled to the side. The adrenaline from the EpiPen wore off. His chest stopped moving entirely.
He wasn't breathing.
Sera cursed violently. Her combat medic training seized absolute control of her brain. Panic was not an option.
She grabbed Kian by the shoulders and laid him flat on his back on the hard elevator floor. She tilted his chin up and pushed his forehead back, opening his airway as much as physically possible.
She pinched his nose shut with her left hand. She took a deep, massive breath, filling her own lungs. She leaned down, sealing her lips tightly over his, and forced the oxygen forcefully into his mouth.
She pulled back, watching his chest rise and fall with the artificial breath. She repeated the rescue breath a second time. Her focus was absolute, surgical, and clinical.
She shifted her position, kneeling beside his chest. She locked the heel of her right hand over the center of his sternum, placing her left hand on top and interlacing her fingers.
She locked her elbows and began rapid, brutal chest compressions.
One, two, three, four.
She pressed down hard, utilizing her upper body weight to compress his chest two inches deep. The physical exertion in the stuffy, unventilated elevator was immense. Sweat immediately beaded on her forehead, stinging her eyes.
A loud, blaring emergency alarm began ringing in the shaft outside, vibrating through the metal walls. Sera ignored it completely. She maintained her relentless, rhythmic compressions.
Two grueling minutes passed. Her shoulders burned with lactic acid.
Suddenly, Kian's body convulsed under her hands.
He coughed violently, a harsh, wet sound that echoed in the small space. His swollen airway finally cleared.
Sera immediately grabbed his shoulder and hip, rolling him onto his side into the recovery position to prevent him from choking on his own saliva.
Kian took deep, ragged, desperate breaths. His chest heaved as oxygen finally flooded back into his starved brain.
His icy blue eyes snapped open. They were clouded with confusion for a fraction of a second before locking onto Sera. She was hovering over him, her face flushed, her chest heaving from the physical exertion, bathed in the red emergency light.
He weakly raised his right hand. His long fingers brushed against her warm cheek, a silent, instinctual check to confirm she was real and not a hypoxia-induced hallucination.
Sera slapped his hand away lightly. "Save your energy," she ordered, her voice rough and breathless. "Keep breathing."
The elevator suddenly jolted again. The normal, bright overhead lights flickered back to life, blinding them momentarily as the power grid reset.
A mechanical voice announced over the speaker that the elevator was resuming its descent, breaking the intense, isolated tension of the locked room.
