Disclaimer: I could own Supernatural, if I looked for a crossroads demon.
Stretching his wings:
He could smell the blood from where he was. Lilith's blood was being spilled; the final seal was being broken! Like a lock clicking open. Raising his voice, he pushed at the barriers, rattling the bars of the cage.
The acrid air was brimming over with power, broken grace resonating throughout the heated prison. Something gave way, and broke; he could raise his fist in triumph.
He would rip off Michael's wings, laugh as he killed those fiercely devoted soldiers of God. Heaven help him, there would be Hell to pay. The irony not lost on him, he imagined dark wings spreading out, reaching to freedom.