Wingbound

A bond forged in secret. A war that won't stay hidden. A trust three hundred years in the making.
For three years, Wren Calder has kept the same secret before dawn: climbing the switchback path to the Aerie's isolation ledge with a pail of stolen fish, to sit beside the one dragon the Order swears is too dangerous to touch.
They call Threnody a monster - chained for six years after the death of her first rider, kept apart from the roosts like a wound the fortress would rather not look at. Wren has never once believed it. She's a dragon-keeper's daughter with no bloodline, no bond, and no business anywhere near a creature like Threnody - and still she comes back, night after night, because someone has to, and because the storm-gray eyes watching her from the dark have never once looked like hunger.
When war finally reaches the Aerie's gates, secrecy stops being a choice. What Wren and Threnody share isn't sanctioned, isn't safe, and isn't anything the Council has a category for - and the closer the fighting comes, the harder it gets to keep a bond this real folded small enough to hide. Somewhere beneath the mountain's oldest foundations, a door sealed three hundred years ago is still waiting for the one thing it was built to test: whether trust, given freely and asked to wait long enough, can survive being needed at last.
Wren is about to find out - in front of a Council that doesn't trust her, a rival cadet who might understand her better than either of them wants to admit, and a dragon who bet six years of chained silence on the hope that somebody would finally come back and mean it.
The bond was never the dangerous part. Everyone was just watching the wrong thing.