There had always been a part of Link that feared the Wolf, and, in a greater sense, the entirety of the Twilight. It was the combination of the intense pain that coursed through him, as his body reshaped and contorted against his will, and perhaps even due to the sudden mindlessness he felt while under the beast's influence. It was the Goddesses blessing, as it was so called, that willed the beast, the Divine Beast, who was really just an extension of his own self, into creation. Link didn't like the word divine. He had grown to resent it. It might have been a blessing, but a blessing for whom? It couldn't have been referring to the goatherd; it was no blessing for him, not as far as his eyes could see. Maybe he simply refused to view it as such; Ilia always used to reprimand him for his stubbornness, his sheer force of will that consistently butted heads with her own contumaciousness.
He tried to avoid the Beast whenever he could, even at times when it might have been to his own benefit. The Beast did have its set of advantages; his native, human form paled in comparison next to the Wolf's sheer raw power, speed, and senses of both smell and sight. However useful it might have been, its influence grew stronger each time he took its form and in turn so did Link's fear of it. His nightmare was to grow a dependency; to assume the Beast's form one time too many, that it would become more than a fraction of himself, but his entirety. Link, the quiet goatherd from Ordona, would fade away. The Wolf, or rather... he, was a terrifying creature. Strangers, townsfolk, the very people he shared his life with, ran at the sight of him. His tutor, Rusl, whom Link viewed as a brother when he had no true siblings of his own (at least not to his knowledge; but he had stopped dwelling on his unknown parentage a long time ago), struck him with the same blade he had used to instruct him. Link could not forget the absolute hatred that was held within his brothers gaze. Even his beloved horse, Epona, seemed uneasy within the presence of the Wolf.
If the people feared the wolf, Link thought, then he too should shun what shaped half of his being. This unnerving state of mind did, for the time being, provide Link with both closure and comfort. His spirit was invigorated each time he conquered the Wolf; each time he strayed away from it's sinister influence despite willingly taking its form. Looking back at this, Link wished he hadn't been so naïve, so afraid of something he simply did not understand. He, like his ancestors before him, had no desire to understand the Twilight or it's magic. He chose to shun it.
He carried this ultimatum of sorts with him until his fight with the beast, Ganon. The dark king was the physical embodiment of the very fears which had plagued Link for so long. The beast towered over him, shining in flowing, molten pride and unimaginable power; an untamable force of magic that struck Link to his very core. How much did the lord's blessing parallel that of his own? Did he fear his bestial form as much as the hero did his own? Link could have scowled at his own cowardice. Here was a man, so driven with ambition, who chose to use the same blessing Link continuously rejected in order to hurt those the goatherd cared for. Link realized then that in order to extinguish this, truly, malevolent existence, he must first embrace his own.
Link crouched down as the shadow magic engulfed his body. No longer did he cry out in pain as his bones worked against him. He, in fact, felt no pain at all. He merely felt the sense of understanding, completeness, which followed his long awaited acceptance of the Wolf. It had taken him so long, but he finally grasped the meaning of the word blessing. He could no longer hold resentment; at this same instance, he wasn't even afraid. The Wolf was not here to insight fear, but rather, to smite it. Such was Link's purpose.