There were a lot of things the Spartan could have asked him, a lot of comments he could have made but that particular dig at Samandriel's pride was one the former angel couldn't just let go.
"I learned that tongue from the men who spoke it at the time," he said lowly, anger bristling along his skin. "I have walked with gods and danced with nymphs. I have had one name since the beginning of time and it has been Samandriel. If you can still count the years you have, then you are still a child to me." He wanted to keep himself under control, wanted to save himself but the closest he could seem to manage was by protecting Mitchell.
His gaze didn't stay averted for long. Angry blue eyes met the Spartan's in clear challenge though he wasn't giving more than a verbal fight. "Do not presume to know me simply because I wear a collar, my lord Spartan."