“Apologies, Antonio.” I recovered quickly and shot Wrath a warning look as I slipped my arm through the fratello’s, swiftly angling him toward the door. I’d wager anything the Prince of Wrath was only trying to make my friend angry so he could siphon those emotions, just like Envy had done to me. “You’ll have to forgive his rudeness; his journey was long and it’s not under the most pleasant circumstances.”

Antonio’s arm had a surprising bit of muscle hidden beneath his robes, but he didn’t try and stop me as I guided him into the corridor.

“Is it all right if we stay for a few more minutes to say our prayers?”

Antonio looked down into my eyes, and his expression softened. “Of course. I’ll be in the next corridor near the colatoio if you need me.”

“Thank you.”

I exhaled as he slowly made his way down the hall toward the preparation room, waiting until his lantern could no longer be seen before I reentered the chamber. Wrath leaned against the altar and stared at me, one brow arched. It was one of the most human expressions I’d ever seen him wear. “Samael, really? That was the best name you could come up with?”

“He was a prince of Rome and an angel of death. I’d say that sounds pretty fitting. You’re more than welcome to tell me your real name. Then you won’t have to get your undergarments twisted about ones I make up.”

He strode over to me, stopping at an almost decent space. “Do not ever call me that again. I am no angel, witch. Never make that mistake.”

“You don’t say. And here I was under the impression most humans considered Samael the devil.” I brushed past him and went back to the traces of wax left from Vittoria’s summoning circle. “Do you—”

“Have you and that human ever shared a bed?”

I spun around, completely taken off guard by his question. I expected to see a smirk or sneer and wasn’t prepared for the genuine curiosity I found. I wasn’t sure which was more disturbing. “First, that’s none of your business. And second, why would you ask such an asinine thing? In case you didn’t notice, he’s a man of God.”

“He hasn’t always been.”

I clamped my mouth shut. He’d only recently become a member of the brotherhood, and it hadn’t stopped me from pining over him. Truth was, I often dreamed of him trailing kisses down my throat, knotting his fist in my hair, and choosing me instead of his holy brotherhood.