Samandriel looked at Mitchell for a long, confused moment. "You're...you're not selling me?" That sunk in shortly after Natasha finished talking and he really did need to go back to that because he couldn't...
"I'm still a slave, sister," he said softly, "and still not your slave. If you want to put a plan into place and use your rank to your advantage instead of going in there guns blazing and spewing holy fire you should be going on behalf of the actual wronged party in this case should he wish to press charges and file suit." Samandriel wasn't an idiot. He might not have known exactly how this worked, but he knew enough to at least be able to help keep asses covered.
"You might care about my rights here, but the fact remains that I don't have any. If he'd killed me, it'd still be a matter of monetary compensation for lost property and nothing to do with anyone's life. I matter to you and to him," he looked at Mitchell, "That doesn't mean I have a choice in what happens to me the minute I walk out that door." His attention turned back to his sister. "As long as I'm human, my options are to allow whatever's desired of me or risk being killed and I'd rather be made to bend to Carrick's will a thousand times than not come home at all." He dropped his gaze and nodded to the demon and their group desire for Mitchell and he to have some peace and space to talk now that the former angel was talking again.