"That is enough," he commands, his eyes monitoring the movement of everyone around us. Although he's been a grouchy asshole all morning, I value his insight when it comes to the competition.

He pulls me backward, placing himself behind me as he rests his hands on my shoulders. I blink in confusion, but I don't question it when Cer does the same with Thea. A few moments roll by before a noise erupts from the front. The crowd grows wild as people start chanting an odd name.

"Milado, Milado!"

"What's happening?" I ask Ze. With everyone taller than me, the only things I can see are people's backs—lots of backs.

"Someone is on the stage," he answers laconically.

"I kind of gathered that." I sigh. "But who is it? Can you tell me what's happening? I can't see anything, in case you haven't noticed," I add drily.

"I have noticed," he replies glibly. "You are a very small human. Somewhat like a little pet."

"W-what? A pet?" I sputter, my eyes widening in shock. I turn to face him, ready to let him know that he's crossed the line. But in his nonchalant style, Ze doesn't stop there.

"Yes." He nods thoughtfully. "A cuddly little pet. If you strayed on my grounds, I would spare your life. Maybe feed you. Maybe I would even keep you," he says as he taps his finger against his chin.

"Wow, Ze. That's so generous of you. I would love to be your pet. Why, I can't believe you'd even feed me!" Of course, the full-on sarcasm is lost on him.

"You do need more meat on your bones," he points out as his eyes scan my frame.

"I think you should stop there," I warn, narrowing my eyes at him. "Jesus, you need to read a book on sarcasm," I mutter, shaking my head.

Suddenly, he frowns.

"Who is this Jesus and why are you suddenly bringing him up, human?" he demands, his eyes glinting dangerously.

"What? You don't know who Jesus is?"

"You are forbidden from saying that name again." He places his finger against my lips. "You cannot simply say another man's name in conversation with me."

I blink slowly as I stare at him. He doesn't even know who Jesus is...

Why do I even try?

Removing his finger from my person, I release a sigh as I turn my back to him. Ignoring him is the best course of action when he's so vexing. Otherwise, I may end up saying or doing something that's entirely unbecoming.

"And I still don't know what's happening on the stage," I mumble, squaring my shoulders.

"It's the host for this trial," Thea says, finally taking pity on me. "He's a minor Earth deity if I'm not mistaken."

"He is," Ze grunts, inserting himself in the conversation—again. I sneak a glance at him and note that he doesn't seem very pleased with Milado's appearance.

"You know him?"

"I know his kind."